#anyone wants to read it and tell me how they see it though? its 500 words for now (i posted most already)

[kingdomvel]

trying to write really kicking my ass

[m1ckeyb3rry]

CONGRATS ON 500 FOLLOWERS WOOO!! its been a little over a year since ive found your writting, how time flies T-T Could you possibly write a platonic gojo & reader oneshot where its just snippets of Gojo's first year teaching and the reader is a 1st year student not part of jujutsu society? I'd prefer if the mc had a somewhat introverted personality while being grumpy bc of being forced to attend the school. U can change their behaviour to what u feel more comfortable writing if u want tho!!

── THE SCHOLAR

Synopsis: A short snippet of how Satoru Gojo convinces you to be his first student in full.

Event Masterlist

Pairing: Gojo & Reader

Chapter Word Count: 2.6k

Content Warnings: not many tbh…reader is a d1 hater of gojo and ino ig?? also just a hater in general LMAO she does NOT want to be there

A/N: wow anon i can’t believe it’s been a year since you found my account and that you’ve stuck around for so long, that means a lot to me!! i apologize for how long this took me and how short it is 😫 it was a bit difficult for me to write gojo as a teacher without feeling like i was just rehashing his dynamic w a previous y/n i’ve written 😓 but i hope this is somewhat close to what you wanted?? also idk if you’ve read my fic pomegranate ink or not but i did throw in a reference to it at one point so props to anyone who catches that hehe

Additional: part of my 500 follower event! see the event description and rules to make a request of your own.

You weren’t really sure what cause your classmate had to be as pleased as he was, but for some reason, the boy was bouncing in his seat, scribbling down notes with the fervor of a scholar — though you were quite certain that he was nothing of the sort, at least not when his test scores were taken into consideration. 

“Hey,” you whispered, tossing an eraser at his head when your teacher’s back was turned. “Ino. What’s the big deal? We’re not even learning anything yet, so what are you writing down?”

“Are you kidding me? Gojo just told us an entire story of his past. That’s valuable information!” Ino said. You frowned at him.

“It’s not valuable information, because he’s so prone to embellishment that he’s all but an author at this point. Besides, do you think you, or anyone else for that matter, will ever face seven first grades and come out the winner, without even a scratch?” you said.

“He’s the strongest sorcerer in the world, though, so it’s feasible for him,” Ino said.

“Right,” you said, rolling your eyes. “Maybe for him, but not for anyone else. This is just bragging under the guise of an educational opportunity. We’re never going to be powerful enough to replicate such a feat, so what’s the use in wasting our time talking about it?”

“You’re such a spoil-sport,” Ino huffed. “We’re the first students to ever get to learn from Satoru Gojo, and somehow, you’re complaining about it? That’s ridiculous no matter what way you put it!”

“Is everything okay?” 

Both you and Ino jumped as Satoru Gojo appeared in front of your desks, peering down at you over the lenses of his dark glasses. He didn’t seem annoyed that you were talking while he was ‘teaching’; in fact, he looked excited, as if he wanted to join in the conversation as well. You could imagine him pulling up a chair and resting his chin in his hands as he gossiped with you, and it made you scoff.

“Everything’s fine. We were just wondering when you were actually going to start the lesson,” you said.

“She was wondering that!” Ino rushed to clarify. You shot him a dirty look out of the corner of your eye, which he ignored — you supposed loyalty didn’t mean much to him, as you two weren’t really friends and therefore couldn’t inspire much loyalty in one another regardless. “I was telling her how fascinated I am by the story you were telling!”

“Suck-up,” you hissed.

“Stupid,” he hissed back. Gojo clapped his hands, returning to the front of the classroom with a distinctly unacademic swagger to his step that made you internally fume.

“No worries, we’re just getting to that part! Today, we’ll go over some basic curse theory,” he said, drawing simplistic shapes on the chalkboard to accompany his explanations. As usual, Ino was absorbed by the standard bullshit Gojo spouted, but you found it to be so boring that you actually began to nod off, catching up on the sleep you had missed last night due to a mission which had run later than expected.

Unlike Ino, who had been automatically enrolled in the school because of his family lineage, you had been scouted as a fresh talent by Satoru Gojo himself. It had been a long conversation, and he had only managed to convince you in the end by telling you all about Kaito Hinode, the well-regarded first year teacher who you would study under. Hinode was a sorcerer you believed you wouldn’t have trouble respecting, and so you begrudgingly agreed to attend the school and give the whole notion of ‘jujutsu sorcery’ a shot.

Then Hinode retired, mere weeks before you were set to begin at the school, and his replacement was revealed to be none other than that irreverent, inept, and decidedly unserious man who you had secretly hoped you would not see much more of: Satoru Gojo.

You didn’t even want to be a sorcerer in active duty, but the theoretical side of it interested you to an almost unhealthy extent. You spent days upon days studying the workings of curses and cursed energy, to the point that you could be considered almost an expert. That was the only thing cheering you about coming to the school, that you’d get to discuss with individuals on your level, and so it had been such a heartbreaking disappointment when Gojo, who cared little about the causes and more about the results, was the only proper sorcerer you came into frequent contact with.

The other teachers didn’t have time to entertain your pestering, far too busy with their own students, which meant that Gojo was really your only option. And of course you had tried — really, you had. You had presented him with your questions and ideas, but he had only made a face and told you that studying curse theory to this extent wouldn’t help anyone, and least of all yourself.

He wanted you to learn how to fight, but you didn’t care for that. You didn’t want to fight. If you could spend the rest of your days shut away in a study, reading your books and taking notes on them, then you’d be quite content. You were reluctant to go on missions, even if you were ten times better than your peers, and you often dragged your feet heading into your practical classes. More than once, Ino had had to hoist you over his shoulders and sprint to the training field so that you were not both late, and you knew that you probably shouldn’t be so harsh on him given that, but because it meant that you had to exert yourself on the battlefield instead of rereading your favorite essays, his good intentions only made you resent him more.

“You know, you could really be a great sorcerer,” Gojo said to you one day. You were sitting on a bench while Ino did exercises, ink smudging your hand as you meticulously annotated a book that the principal had given to you. You blinked up at him, amazed once again at how tall he was. He blocked out the sunlight, his shadow looming over you in a way that would’ve been ominous if he wasn’t so typically harmless.

“Hm?” you said, returning to your book when you realized he wasn’t going to say anything of importance. “Sure, I guess I could be.”

“Becoming a first grade isn’t an impossibility for you. It’s something attainable, which is incredibly rare for someone as young as you,” he continued.

“Right,” you said.

“Do you care about that, though?” he said.

“Nope,” you said. “I have no interest in being a first grade sorcerer. It just means more dangerous missions, doesn’t it? I don’t care about all of that.”

“It also means a higher salary,” he said.

“Probably not high enough to make up for the risks,” you said.

“Well, it’s pretty high, though only you can decide if it makes up for the risks or not,” he said.

“Listen, sir, I’m only even here because you told me I could further my studies with people renowned in their fields. Do you mind telling me what field you’re renowned in? Because for some unfathomable reason, you’ve ended up as my teacher,” you said.

“I’m…the strongest sorcerer? In the world?” he said, though the way he phrased it made it seem like he was asking you instead of telling. You shrugged.

“That’s an intrinsic talent. You didn’t learn to be that way; you were just born with it. Sure, you had to practice, but practicing and studying are different. Anyways, even if you are the strongest soldier, I think we’ve established that that’s not something I’m interested in. I was supposed to be under the tutelage of wise and experienced professors, but instead, I’m being instructed by you, who’s barely even a few years my elder and has never taught before,” you said, closing your book and holding it to your chest, smiling tightly at him. “I’m staying here because my parents already paid the tuition fee, but I’m not happy about it. Just so you know.”

“If you’re a first grade sorcerer, you also get more access to information,” he said after a moment. “Stuff behind a million clearances that only people of a sufficiently high rank get access to.”

You froze, your eyes brightening at the thought of this forbidden knowledge. You already knew that you were missing several key pieces in your preliminary research, but no matter how hard you looked, you had never been able to find the answers to the seemingly obvious questions. Was this why? Was it really because you did not have the seniority to warrant the understanding?

“Is that truly the case?” you said.

“I can’t help you in terms of books and learning and all of that boring stuff,” he said. “But if you put in a bit more effort, I can turn you into someone that the higher ups listen to, instead of the other way around.”

You mulled this over before nodding, standing up and leaving your book on the bench.

“Okay. I’ll do as you tell me to, but like I said earlier, I’m not going to be happy about it,” he said.

“Who cares? You can be the gloomiest girl alive!” he said, reaching out to ruffle your hair. “Let’s work together, Y/N!”

“I’m your student,” you reminded him. “Not your friend.” 

He waved you off. “You’re old enough to be both. Now let’s get to training!”

It was horrible, being Gojo’s favorite student. For one, Ino was jealous — although soon enough he found another mentor to cotton on to, and then your relationship with him mended into something a little more cordial and polite. For another, Gojo had this strange penchant for throwing you into impossible situations and watching in glee as you struggled to get out of them.

His missions also tended to be errands disguised as pressing matters. Once, he made you run around Tokyo, stopping in various stores so that you could improve your conditioning — stores which just so happened to carry the items on his week’s grocery list. Another time, you single-handedly had to exorcise every single curse harassing a nearby bakery — a bakery which just so happened to carry a specialty flavor of cake that was his new favorite. Whenever you complained about the silly chores, he asked if the exercise had made you stronger or not. You would begrudgingly admit that it had, and then he’d tell you that you should just think of it as a win-win scenario and stop whining.

“Y/N!” That was how it always began: he would shout your name as he entered the classroom, usually accompanying it with a wad of paper or some other, similarly harmless object sent flying your way. You’d catch it in one hand and glare at him.

“What?” This would prompt him to explain his ridiculous plan for the day, after which he would turn to Ino and hand him his assignments. He had gotten special permission from the school to train you in this non-orthodox manner, given that you were so far ahead in any material that giving you homework would be redundant and a waste of time for all parties involved. For his part, Ino did not complain, for he had long ago lost interest in training with Gojo, who was admittedly terrible at actually explaining anything of note.

You made a good pair, you and Gojo, or at least as good of a pair as could be made given the circumstances. As the year went on, you grew more and more familiar with the reasoning behind his atypical style, and though you would never cease to complain, it was more lighthearted, a habit instead of a genuine gripe.

“You’ll be promoted any day now,” Gojo told you on the last day of your first year — the last day that he would be your director supervisor. “They’re waiting for you to grow a bit older, but it’s maturity you lack, not talent. If you participate in the Exchange Event next year, you’ll get the recommendations you need without a problem.”

“If?” you said, picking up on what he had left unsaid. “Isn’t it mandatory? Why wouldn’t I participate?”

“It’s mandatory if you’re living on campus, yes,” he said.

“And what cause would I have to not be living on campus?” you said.

“You’re interested in curse theory, aren’t you?” he said. When you nodded, he sighed. “Still? I was hoping you’d have moved on by now…well, I can get an alternate course of study approved for you by the principal, if you want.”

“An alternate course? What would that entail?” you said.

“One of my fellow special grade sorcerers, Yuki Tsukumo, specializes in researching the exact types of things you find so fascinating. If she agrees to it, then you could serve as an assistant of sorts to her. It’ll be like an internship or something. She won’t let you slack off — it’ll be much worse than anything I put you through, that’s for certain — but if that’s the path you want to take, then it’s an option,” he said.

You had never loved him quite as much as you did in that moment. Without even taking a moment to think about it, you nodded enthusiastically, beaming at him.

“Yes! Yes, Gojo, sir, that would be ideal. I’ve read some of the proposals Tsukumo’s submitted to the higher ups, and oh, if I got to work with her, it would be such a dream,” you said.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself,” he said. “She still has to agree to it.”

“Do you think she’ll say no?” you said.

“Maybe at first,” he said. “After she meets you, though? No way. You’re my pupil, after all. You’ll be the most impressive student she’s ever taken under her wing — and I can attest to the fact that you’ll be far and away the most dedicated.”

You supposed you had some things to thank him for, then. The corners of your lips twitched as you bowed your head at him, causing him to grunt in confusion; after all, you had never shown him such deference before.

“You’re not that bad as a teacher,” you said. “You know, for it being your first time, I think you did alright.”

“Yeah?” he said eagerly before composing himself, clearing his throat before speaking again. “Yeah, I guess you turned out just fine.”

“Thank you for everything, Gojo,” you said. “Please know that you’ll always have an ally in me.”

His black sunglasses slid down the bridge of his nose, just a bit, but enough that you could see the way his eyes softened ever so slightly. Then he reached out and socked you in the arm affectionately.

“Considering how often I butt heads with the higher ups, I might call upon you one day,” he said. “Don’t make that kind of promise lightly, is what I’m saying.”

“I’m not making it lightly,” you said. “If you call upon me, I’ll come. That’s what you do for someone who’s changed your life, right?”

Even the shades he had shoved back into position could not hide the breadth of his smile nor the depth of his fondness. He nodded, slowly at first and then quickly, like he wanted you to be very sure of his agreement.

“True,” he said, and then he patted you on the head. “Guess that means you can call on me whenever you want, too. I’ll be there.”

You smiled at him over your shoulder as you left for the summer and thought that you might never be so fortunate — or unfortunate — as to have a teacher quite like him again.

[tadpolesonalgae]

Okie i'll copy you for a bit a do the quote for each comment thing so i dont get lost hehe

I don’t know? I think to us as readers of the series I kind of agree, but then he cooperated with the alliance, and also I’m on the side that if anyone should be able to see through his mask it should be the IC since hello Rhysand? UTM? CoN???? The idea of a mask/persona???

honestly this is one of the million problems with acotar because yeah when i say the ic has no way of knowing that eris isn't all bad i mean sjm keeps writing the story like that but you're right it doesn't make any sense. i mean even apart from eris doing literally what rhys has been doing since forever, how am i suppose to believe that mor knows all truth or whatever her powers even are and that rhys is a mind reader, and azriel and amren are supposed to be able to read people so well, that azriel's shadows see things that others don't but they still think eris is as bad as beron. that and both eris and mor kinda have made it seem like there's something else there (i genuinely think sjm planned on making mor and eris mates or something but then people started calling her out on having no diversity and she made mor gay out of nowhere). im also pretty sure its common knowledge in the ic that yes eris dumped her over the border without any other help which sucks but he didn't actually hurt her (that was kier) and one look at the autumn court would be enough to tell them that mor would have been hurt even worse if beron had seen her so how did they not put 2 and 2 together. i guess he still hurt her enough and as her friends they probably wont ever forgive him but it doesnt make sense logically for them to still think eris is the same as beron

This might sound hypercritical or conflictive but I’m not writing/don’t want to write Mor to be a bitch? I like Mor and while it might add to the angst and drama to have her be cruel to reader I just wouldn’t be able to commit to it 😭 In my mind it was Mor acting on the hurt reader has caused her and while it was unnecessary, emotions should be let out?

im sorry to say but mor was in fact a bitch but i get what you're saying like she's justified in her anger (in a way) but yeah trying to make someone who just attempted suicide feel bad about themselves is beyond bitchy. but im saying this as someone who doesn't really like mor most times (to me there's no depth to her character tbh like she was just there as the obligatory female friend for feyre, if you compare how developed cass and az are to mor... yeah she just falls flat idk if its bc cass and az will become the main characters in their books and mor might not get one or if its just not so great writing coming from miss maas once more)

Azriel calling Mor out??? After some of the things he’s said to reader????

i feel like this could be a good turning point though. like imagine azriel heard it and calls her out and has to admit not only to himself but out loud about all the shitty uncalles for comments he's thrown reader's way but even while admitting to it, deciding that he wants to be better to her and calling out mor on her bullshit is one way of doing it. also calling out mor is especially significant because of the whole he was in love with her for 500 years (i refuse to go with sjm's shitty ass "he loved her for 500 years and one day just stopped" bullshit - if she was a decent writer who cared a little more about character growth and plot instead of superficial romance tropes and smut she would write a whole book for azriel with no love interest but of him finding his own way and letting go of his love for mor that lasted for 500 fucking years before ever thinking of making him fall for someone else anyway i digress)

That would be so ooc of reader but I think it would be funny (in theory) for reader to suddenly do a 180° and act with them how she does around Eris and snap something smart and sassy back 😭🤭

i hope the ic gets to see her being herself with eris though and realize they really dont know shit about her

But then also idk how much the ‘thinking loudly’ was amplified by Rhys and Feyre’s bond, so whether it would even apply to reader in that way?

honestly sjm refuses to explain anyone's powers or even how magic works atp so who knows

also i saw another ask of you going in on cc and i would like to join a little. i have to start by saying i havent read the books bc i didn't do anything wrong but from the bits I've seen her writing really has been going downhill and it shows the most in the cc books. i never thought she was an amazing writer tbh like acotar reads to me like a teenager book almost but with smut so it's supposed to be ya and if it wasnt for fanfic i wouldn't be here or even remember the books. i read the first one and already had to skim through some of it but then the 2nd one was a bit more promising, unfortunately the 3rd book was going downhill by the chapter, i dont even like to talk about acosf because how is that supposed to be a book about healing when everyone that's supposed to love nesta treats her like shit and most of it is just smut that does nothing at all for the plot. so im not surprised that not only has cc been having a lot of these critics but also that sjm doubled down on the smut in that book. i also heard some of the characters are kind of copy paste from acotar but again i havent read the books. i honestly dont even know if i'll read any other acotar book because they keep getting worse and whether elain ends up with az or lucien or az with gwyn or elain, i dont think sjm will be able to pull a good book out of it when there's this big mess between all of the characters i mentioned plus her insistence on making the ic act like assholes to each other, creating a found family to make it shitty is just dumb in my opinion, but i know for a fact im not gonna read any of the other sjm series (even though tog is supposed to be the best one) and even if i did i wouldnt touch the modern fantasy if it was the last book on earth tbh. technology ends up taking a lot of the magic out of fantasy and obviously im reading fantasy because i like magical aspects. one of the reasons the later books fell off for me too tbh, she started modernizing things too much (like leggings and cans of soup?? when there are no factories or anything?) like the spring court had so many fun magic things and then velaris was a city with clubs, the moonstone palace and the hewn city felt more magical at times than the court of dreams.

i also agree that one of the biggest problems with the later books is the amount of smut. i like smut as much as the next person and dont mind reading pwp but in fanfictions not in books i pay for and that are written by professional authors. sjm tries less and less to write good characters and to keep up a plot because she knows her fantasy books were one of the first of the "spicy fantasy romance" to become popular and she's not losing that place and smut sells so who cares about a good story? definitely not her.

and with the bryce thing you're absolutely right, from what i've read she acts like a petulant selfish child most of the time and correct me if i'm wrong but she's not supposed to be like 19 like feyre so she's a grown ass woman. and yeah i definitely think sjm made her plus size because again she got called out for having no diversity in her books but treats it really weirdly. im someone who may not be plus size but pretty close to it and the way sjm writes bryce definitely gives me weird vibes. what i've seen most and even some people talk about is that a lot of characters keep mentioning how they're attracted to bryce, like sjm doesnt expect us ymto believe bryce is really hot by the descriptions she's made unless she keeps reminding us that people wanna fuck her. idk it may just be a bit of my trauma reading into it

im sorry if this ran too long im a bit drunk apologies - 🧶

Warnings: CC spoilers!, plus a little more slander, please consider looking away if you like the series! 🧡💛

‘when i say the ic has no way of knowing that eris isn't all bad i mean sjm keeps writing the story like that’

Right? Please miss Maas I want everyone to get along and be happy, let the drama between Eris and Mor be solved so that everyone can be happy and peaceful 😭

‘how am i suppose to believe that mor knows all truth or whatever her powers even are and that rhys is a mind reader, and azriel and amren are supposed to be able to read people so well, that azriel's shadows see things that others don't but they still think eris is as bad as beron.’

Also we’re kind of kept in the dark about specifics too? Mor’s just said to have ‘truth’ but what does that mean!! Can she force people to tell the truth? Can she see things in their true form?? Has she come out of the cave and seen the sun and the shadows it casts???? (Plato’s cave reference 😎)

Like I can understand to a degree why Rhys doesn’t look into people’s minds and appreciate that part of his character—that while he is morally greyish he has his own rules if that makes sense? He has his own perception of right and wrong which makes him interesting? But I might be confusing canon with fanon here 🫣

And yes I can see how miss Maas has written the IC to be flawed and Eris even says how Rhys is blinded by his love for his family so he has trouble seeing truths or discrepancies in those around him?

‘(i genuinely think sjm planned on making mor and eris mates or something but then people started calling her out on having no diversity and she made mor gay out of nowhere).’

Haha I hadn’t thought of it like that!

I’m still unsure what I’d choose between no representation vs. bad representation? On one hand it’s kind of disheartening/irritating to see sexuality used as such a cheap plot point? Unless miss Maas expands on it properly it’ll feel kind of useless to me? But then on the other hand representation is representation, like at least it’s becoming more prevalent in general media? I think another angle is some of the issues with acotar wouldn’t be as problematic as they are if the book series wasn’t so popular? But because it’s liked by so many people it’s also under much more intensive scrutiny when I don’t know if Miss Maas even planned for it to be taken so seriously as it is in some places? Not that the analysis is a bad thing, though, it’s interesting to see different things pointed out if I’d missed them the first time? (Particularly with Emerie and her descriptions of beauty? I hadn’t noticed it in the first read through but then saw some other people pointing it out, as well as other things?)

‘but he didn't actually hurt her (that was kier) and one look at the autumn court would be enough to tell them that mor would have been hurt even worse if beron had seen her so how did they not put 2 and 2 together.’

I suppose while Eris didn’t hurt her, Mor was in an extremely vulnerable position and the with Eris already being from the autumn court it would be easy to make the assumption that he would have inherited the beliefs in his father? Also with the saying of ‘if you’re not part of the solution you’re part of the problem’—I think that’s contextual, but for the sake of the point it’s making, I’m using it here—Eris didn’t do anything to help Mor that we know of, and also according to Mor’s narrative Eris said some cruel things, but then on the other hand since Eris hasn’t done or said anything exactly to contradict what Mor’s said so I’m not going to blame the IC for being protective and standing with her on what was likely an extremely traumatising moment for her? Honestly I guess it would be kind of weird and shitty if they doubted her to be honest 😭

‘im sorry to say but mor was in fact a bitch but i get what you're saying like she's justified in her anger (in a way)’

I expressed myself wrong, sorry 😭

Mor definitely said something bad, but I’m not going to write her in cbmthy to continue making horrid comments like that when nobody else is around, it was kind of a one-off thing so hopefully she won’t be a bitch in the rest of the story, just temporarily 🤭🧡💛

‘yeah trying to make someone who just attempted suicide feel bad about themselves is beyond bitchy.’

Hard agree, I might even have to say it was a little uncalled for 🫣😳🫢

‘to me there's no depth to her character tbh like she was just there as the obligatory female friend for feyre, if you compare how developed cass and az are to mor...’

I think in the books/canon she’s a bit contradictory? Maybe? With how harsh she is with Nesta and how gentle she is with Feyre? I can understand it I suppose, thinking of it through Mor’s perception, but it does sometimes feel like Mor was added just to be the one to add drama to the books? There might be something to say about how Mor and Amren are written as female characters as opposed to the batboys who we’re supposed to like and are romantic interests? Fanon Mor though 🧡💛🫂😭

‘like imagine azriel heard it and calls her out and has to admit not only to himself but out loud about all the shitty uncalles for comments he's thrown reader's way’

Okay so this is something I (maybe unnecessarily? I’m genuinely not sure) want to stretch out for a bit and give it time so it doesn’t magically disappear? With Azriel facing some of the things he’s said to reader and why they were so hurtful to her? I think him knowing she tried to kill herself will speed things up, but only to a certain degree since there’s still a lot they don’t know about one another?

‘i refuse to go with sjm's shitty ass "he loved her for 500 years and one day just stopped" bullshit’

I guess one might be able to argue he was naturally coming out of it already but it there’s no evidence to really support that? I guess it would be difficult to implement it though due to the nature of where the story started and who it follows, but it would have made more sense in my opinion if we somehow got to see Az beginning to lose feelings for Mor, but because that would require something to be set before Feyre came along I guess it would be impossible 😭

‘i hope the ic gets to see her being herself with eris though and realize they really dont know shit about her’

They probably will, however reader is the one who intentionally or not does change how she acts around people? To a certain extent reader does try to act more ‘appropriately’ around them? Like she would never speak to Rhys the way she speaks sometimes to Eris 😭 Though I can imagine it might be funny if she accidentally did and then slapped her hand over her mouth because she hadn’t meant to 😭

‘i never thought she was an amazing writer tbh like acotar reads to me like a teenager book almost but with smut’

I was wondering, did you know anything about acotar before you started reading it? I went in blind since a friend recommended it to me, so I had no idea about how popular it was or anything, but I can see how if someone had heard how hyped up people were about it and then read it, it might fall flat and be super disappointing?

‘but also that sjm doubled down on the smut in that book.’

I know I feel quite strongly that Bryce and Hunt didn’t really have that much of an emotional connection compared to their physical one? Though to be fair I also love seeing emotional vulnerability so maybe it was just a difference in taste? If you’re someone who liked that kind of lust-fuelled romance that’s fine, but personally it wasn’t my cup of tea :/

It also felt like when Bryce and Hunt introduced that ‘no sex’ rule (I think maybe in CC2) it was Miss Maas realising she hadn’t built up and kind of tension between them and had jumped into sex way too quickly and so was trying to dial it back which irritated me? I skipped over I think all of the sex scenes in CC2 because I just wanted them to hurry along and get back to the plot? Also I feel like Miss Maas was trying to make them kind of freaky to appeal to the smutty side, like with the dry humping, the electricity (I think a vibrator might have also been used but I skimmed the scenes so I can’t remember) it was just too much for me when I wanted to read about what was happening and wasn’t interested in their relationship at all 😭

‘i honestly dont even know if i'll read any other acotar book because they keep getting worse’

I know I won’t be reading another CC book and will just wait for someone to very kindly write a summary for it, but I’m desperately hoping she won’t mess up another acotar book 😭

If she does though, isn’t it such a relief we have fanfiction? 😭

‘like the spring court had so many fun magic things and then velaris was a city with clubs, the moonstone palace and the hewn city felt more magical at times than the court of dreams.’

I absolutely adore that factor in fantasy books! I particularly like Holly Black’s version of fae, where they live off the land more and are much more tricky to deal with? More folklore-esque, and I wish we saw more of that kind of thing in acotar 😭 I agree the Spring Court with the will-o-wisps was so lovely—To Old Gods is one of my favourite pieces in that aspect and I want to write and read more of that kind of ancient/slightly mythical/sometimes eldritchy magic 😭

‘i also agree that one of the biggest problems with the later books is the amount of smut. i like smut as much as the next person and dont mind reading pwp but in fanfictions not in books i pay for and that are written by professional authors.’

I used to enjoy reading smut in books (I only started reading regularly and realising I enjoyed it in the past four years) because it was new and exciting but I think now if it’s in professionally written books I absolutely adore it and author has nailed emotional connection? And yes, pwp in fanfiction? Great! Love it! But the amount of smut in CC was unbelievable and I suppose that might be how you feel about acosf? I have to admit I liked it but I think it’s heavily to do with enjoying the characters 😭 Bryce and Hunt in CC? I don’t want to read about that, please spare my eyes 😭😞

‘so who cares about a good story? definitely not her.’

I think I disagree with you here? Maybe? I can’t remember the CC books in particularly great detail? 😭 I think actually for the most part I did find the plot parts a little slow, and Bryce and Hunt made it worse for me, however I loved the ending to CC2, and I enjoyed the asteri story but I think the power levels got out of control? (Don’t even get me started on how Bryce literally doesn’t earn her magic, it infuriates me so much!!! Feyre, Aelin, and Nesta all went through some kind of training and Bryce literally just touches a stone then inherits starlight and has the audacity to say she worked for it? Babes, no.)

And actually with miss Maas being lazy in writing—her using a pill so that Bryce can understand the acotar world was so obviously a deus ex machina. It was so cheap and basic there wasn’t a single amount of thought that went into it.

‘and correct me if i'm wrong but she's not supposed to be like 19 like feyre so she's a grown ass woman.’

Yup. She’s twenty-three 😐

‘what i've seen most and even some people talk about is that a lot of characters keep mentioning how they're attracted to bryce, like sjm doesnt expect us ymto believe bryce is really hot by the descriptions she's made unless she keeps reminding us that people wanna fuck her.’

Honestly that wasn’t that big of an issue for me? Like I get it’s fantasy so I can excuse every love interest and even some who aren’t being attracted to the fmc, but I did definitely have an issue with how lust-fuelled and physical it was 😶‍🌫️

Like with Feyre and Tarquin it’s made clear they’re both attractive/beautiful people but I got the impression that ultimately they liked (?) one another for who they were? To an extent they had a kind of understanding and felt more honest?

‘idk it may just be a bit of my trauma reading into it’

Not sure how much it will help but I’m sending you internet hugs :/ 🫂🫂🫂

‘im sorry if this ran too long im a bit drunk apologies - 🧶’

Haha, don’t apologise it was fun getting to discus all these things with you!! 🧡💛

[literaticat]

From your perspective, what are the best resources to send to a true beginner (someone who knows absolutely nothing at all about children's publishing but says they have a story idea) for learning the craft and business of writing picture books?

Well, first I'd probably tell them that EVERYONE has story ideas -- trust me, if I tell people I work in publishing, I hear "I have a great story idea!" or "Wow, I've always wanted to write a book!" from anyone from dentist to dog-walker. Actually doing the hard work to study the market, write a book, revise the book, etc, is generally a bridge too far for most. And that's fine.

If they are serious about it, though, they should figure out what kinds of books exist, and what kind they are writing or looking to write. (Many adults don't remember much about kid's books, really, and have NO IDEA how much variety exists in the kid's section, or how to tell these books apart, but it's important! And if they walk in and are just lost, they can always ask a nice librarian or bookseller for some guidance!).

Are they looking to write a picture book? A chapter book? MG/YA? Fiction, nonfiction? Each category of books has its own rules and norms, and you kinda need to know them if your goal is to get published. So they should take some time at the bookstore or library to really get to know the different age levels and categories, and immerse themselves in various books that are in the category they want to write. How long are those books? What is the vocabulary like? What's popular? Which publishers are publishing those books? They will likely come to see that there are patterns -- like, most picture books are 32 pages long and under 500 words (much shorter than their faves as a kid might have been!), most chapter books are in series, etc. (Protip: If you hate this step, and reading a bunch of children's books isn't fun for you, you probably should NOT be writing for kids!)

Now that they know their way around the kid's section, it's time for a little online investigation. There are free Facebook groups, for example, like KidLit411, where newbies can observe and ask questions and there are people a little further along in the journey can help answer them. They will see a lot of jargon and things they probably won't understand immediately (like "queries", "R&R", "twitter pitch" or whatever, that we take for granted that people know, but they won't!) -- so, great, they can google and get more familiar with the lay of the land. They will quickly start to realize just how much they really DON'T know, but they'll also start to pick it up.

They should also think about their GOALS. WHY do they want to write children's books? WHO are they trying to reach with their stories? Do they want to be an agented and traditionally published author, where their books are available in regular bookstores for a general audience? OR, do they want to write a very specific niche kind of book for a very specific audience? (Like, a book about dealing with XYZ Illness, aimed at children with that illness and their caretakers, for example, or a book about a specific regional event that is likely to sell A LOT of copies in one small part of the country, and zero copies outside of it) That might mean that a small niche publisher dealing with that thing/locale/whatever exists -- or it might mean that self-publishing is their best bet. (None of these options are BAD, mind you, they are just different, and might mean the paths they will take are different, and they should be aware of that).

If they find all of this research invigorating / exciting, they should continue to the next step. If they find this daunting and awful, they should STOP and go live their lives!

Once they are clear that a) yes this is work, and will take time and effort to master, and it is FAR from a get-rich-quick scheme, and b) they are up for the challenge, and passionate about the stories they want to tell, and c) yes they not only have "an idea" but also know what KIND of book they are going to be writing and what they should be aiming for, and d) they have some idea of their own motivation and goals...

THEN, I'd tell them to sit their butts down and start writing, and if they are enjoying it and want to go to the NEXT step, look into joining the SCBWI.

The SCBWI has huge conferences, of course, but they also have LOADS of free resources for members, and smaller regional events all over the world that are often free or inexpensive; if you happen to live in an active region there are often meet-ups, critique opportunities, etc -- getting to know other authors and getting access to these resources can be REALLY valuable for newbies. But I would just suggest those other steps FIRST, because it's pointless to spend the money to join if you aren't really committed, and you won't know if you are committed until you know more about what it all even is and actually are writing things. You know?

[vatt-world]

hi

We decided to watch a called no way home because we kept seeing its ads on youtube. We knew the trailer so well that we could say it word for word. Mark's favorite line was when the lead actor talks about his girlfriend in the movie. Mark would repeat it all the time, 

So, we went to the movie theater, hoping to see that scene . But to our disappointment, the lead actor didn't say that line at all. In fact, the whole scene we were waiting for wasn't even in the movie! We left feeling upset 

As we left,. We realized we could just go watch another movie without paying again. We felt a little bad, but we had spent a lot on snacks, so we didn't feel too guilty. Plus, we felt like we deserved to watch another movie since no way home let us down.

We ended up watching a movie  instead. It was good, and since we hadn't seen any ads for it, we weren't disappointed. 

//

i needed a car , i could rely on public transport

and all i had was 2000$ so i bought a ford car

so after few rides , it started giving problems

the transmission broke..the power steering didnt work

i couldnt find parking on campus..

Is your minivan all fixed?" Larry inquired.

"Yeah, but it cost us a pretty penny," Mark sighed.

"How much did they charge you?" Larry's eyes widened.

"$2500," Mark responded.

"$2500? You've gotta be kidding me! $2500 for a new transmission?" Larry exclaimed.

"A new what?" Mark looked puzzled, glancing at me in the backseat.

"A transmission. An automatic one. That's what you had replaced, right?" Larry clarified.

"Oh, right, yeah, a new transmission," I confirmed.

"Well, it sounds like they're pulling a fast one on you," Larry said as he dialed a number on his phone.

He called someone named Rocko, then his buddy Kurt, both of whom echoed his sentiment that we were getting ripped off. Mark nervously suggested haggling, but I pointed out that we already agreed to the price.

As we pulled into the garage, Larry insisted we stand our ground. "You tell 'em you ain't gonna be taken for a ride," he advised.

larry gets out of the car an goes in and talks to car dealer.

After a few minutes, Larry returned with a grin. "Saved you a few bucks, boys," he announced proudly.

 When we settled up, the bill had mysteriously been reduced by $500.

I still don't know what Larry said or did in that office, but his advice and charm saved us some serious cash. Now, we just hoped the new transmission would hold up.

///

There are few things that bring my father as much joy as clearance sales.

It's not so much the food that my dad loves at Denny's—he only knows three flavors anyway: salt, butter, and A-1 Steak Sauce. No, what he adores is the simplicity, the straightforwardness of the entire Denny's experience, especially the menu.

“You don’t even have to read anything,” he’d say. “You look at the pictures of the food, you pick what you want, and you point.” And that’s precisely what he does. We'd settle at a table in Denny's, he'd crack open the menu to a Moons Over My Hammy or whatever caught his fancy, and he'd point. “I want that.” Not a word more, not a word less. It's the perfect restaurant routine.

we bought couch

So, off we went, driving at a snail's pace—twenty miles per hour in a forty-five-mile-per-hour zone. The officer followed my dad quietly for a few miles before my father suddenly pulled over, even though the officer hadn't signaled with lights or sirens. I followed suit.

After the officer wrote us both tickets for having unsafe loads, he warned us not to drive with the furniture again or risk getting more tickets. Stuck on the side of the road, my dad asked if I knew anyone with a truck. That was like asking if I knew anyone at all.

///

You ever have those gym ,PE classes that make you question why you even bother showing up? . Coach McAndrew, bless her heart, she had all the enthusiasm of a cheerleader at a spelling bee.

 Coach blowing her whistle like it's her only source of oxygen. "Forward rolls, backward somersaults, cartwheels, repeat!" she says, as if we're all Olympic gymnasts in the making.

 How am I supposed to learn by watching them? It’s like telling someone to learn how to swim by watching a fish.

I muster up the courage to approach Coach. "Excuse me, I don’t know how to do any of those things. Can I please go to the library?" I ask, hoping she'd see reason. But nope, she hits me with the classic "No pain, no gain" line, like she's trying to motivate a sack of potatoes.

So, there I am, at the back of the line, watching these kids effortlessly roll, somersault, and cartwheel like it's second nature.

Finally, it's my turn. I kneel down, put the top of my head on the mat, and just pray for a miracle. But all I manage to do is roll sideways off the mat—splat—onto the wooden gym floor.

 All pain, no gain, and a side of humiliation. Can't wait for next week's adventure in awkwardness.

This is America? I’m fucking in! Big Pimpin’ was the epitome of the American dream and I needed to be part of it. I wanted to be like these larger-than-life American superheroes they called rappers. I wanted to be a pimp like Jay-Z and a gangster like 50 Cent. I made it my life’s goal to live the Big Pimpin’ lifestyle. Whenever I watched BET, I forgot I was a small foreign Chinese boy and I felt like a badass gangsta. I started imitating how the rappers walked and how they talked. I would go up to my classmates and say, “Yo what up, dog. Our geometry teacher is a bitch, homie.” I felt like my identity was being judged based on the other Asians around me instead of my own personality, my inside voice screamed, I listen to Jay-Z, motherfuckers! In high school,

thong thong thong thong thong!” This was one of the first songs I heard on American radio. It was catchy as hell, but I had no idea what a thong was. Then when I saw the music video, everything made sense.

I couldn’t rap for shit, but I wanted so badly to be part of the glamorous rap game that I’d seen on Rap City. Chris downloaded a bootleg copy of Sony’s ACID Music Studio, a beat-making software, and he started cranking out some sick beats. Then Jeremy, Phil and I would go to Chris’s mom’s apartment and record our raps on his five-dollar computer microphone. Next thing you know, we’d formed a rap group just like N.W.A. Chris’s mom’s apartment and his Dell desktop became our recording studio. We felt like the real deal and we called ourselves Syndakit. The first time I recorded at Chris’s house, he played me a beat he had just made. It sounded like a real track I’d heard on Rap City. I pulled out my notebook and I was ready to write my first rhymes, but I

I never got a record deal, but I experienced creative freedom for the first time

////

offer to buy one and get the other for half price , my father was first in line.

his ability to consume knew no bounds.his favorite was chocolate pean with extra sprinkles

when i orderd plan old chocolate icecream , he took it as an insult

they have thirty two flavors andu order chocaloate

u can get chocolate anywhere , why did we come to america

we didnt sacrifice everything come to here so u could be satisfied with plain old chocolate ice cream

i just want medium soda

get the large

u get extra large for thirty nine cents more

America was Willy Wonka’s chocolate factory and he was a ten-year-old who had won a golden ticket.

Let me tell you what is really embarrassing,” he continued. “Having only one pair of shoes, that’s embarrassing. Having to study for your exams under a street lamp because you don’t have your own room, that’s embarrassing. Hanging off the side of a train on your way to work because it’s so crowded and you can’t afford a seat, that’s embarrassing.”

Yellow highlight | Page: 57

“When will you become an American?” he continued. “Okay, pour the extra thirty-nine cents-worth into a cup and I will drink it later.”

///

I saw a job posting in the college newspaper for telemarketer and decided to interview for it. The college building was squeezed between a sandwich place and a bookstore. The guy interviewing me looked a bit like Paul Giamatti from "Billions," but there were definitely no billions to be made here.

During the interview, he asked simple questions like who had used a computer before and who knew how to use a phone, how to type basic english. I got hired and was given a script to follow.

I got hired and was given a script to follow. My job was to keep people/alumni on the line and chat about how great the university was still doing.

I was supposed to ask alumni like Milli for a hundred bucks to support the college.

but milli response was "Oh, I'm sorry, hun. I'm barely scraping by on a fixed income. I'd love to help, really, but a hundred dollars? not happening."

So, I lowered the amount to fifty dollars, but still got a no. Then I tried twenty dollars, and she agreed to make the donation.

After working for an hour, a bell rang for a break. The boss, stood on a chair and called out how much money everyone had brought in. He gave cookies to the top three earners.

Overall, it was an interesting experience, but I only worked there for a few weeks before my semester started, and I quit the telemarketing job.

//

“BE CAREFUL!” my roommate WILLIAM TOLD ME . “I am being careful!” I said, grabbing the dvd from him and totally not being careful.It wasn't contraband or illicit substances..it was dance dvd.. I was staring at it in awe, my heart pounding like crazy.

cuoristy got the better of me and I put the dvd in my vcr. And What unfolded on the screen was unlike anything I’d ever saw.

and what captivated me even more was drummer in the corner setting the rhythm and this guy was dancing to the beat in rhythm…it was beautiful…

soon i was playing drums…

//

 coach andrew, transmission,affleck movie,

, clearance sales-denny's,

/////

I needed a job. Scanning through the student paper, I found an opening in the computer lab. It seemed perfect, except for the minor detail that I knew next to nothing about computers. All I knew was that if something goes wrong, you should reboot the computer. Sure, I could switch a computer on, but i knew nothing about coding, programming, troubleshooting.

I interviewed with this quiet guy who wore glasses, named Dominick. He wore a buttoned-up shirt, light brown khakis, and Nike running sneakers. "Hi, Kunal, nice to meet you,” he said, in a soft, high-pitched voice. “I am looking for some people to be computer lab managers. What are your skills?”

“Troubleshooting, programming, Excel, PowerPoint,” I said.

“Can you give me more details?”

"Sure, I've read courses online, fixed bugs on my computer, and developed applications."

"I like you. I’m going to hire you,” he said as we shook hands. Bingo! “Given your advanced skill set, I’m going to give you a very special project.”

He turned to the computer and opened up a software program I had never seen. “The school is trying to integrate this new voice recognition software. I want you to figure it out, dissect it, and write an entire instruction manual based on what you’ve learned.”

So three days a week, four hours each shift, my job was to sit at the computer and try to figure out voice recognition software. The first day I took the job very seriously. I spoke into the microphone and compared what I said to the words that appeared on the screen: “The cat drank the cow’s milk,” I said. On-screen: "You drank the milk." I said it slowly again… "You drank the milk" again… I basically gave up on the project after a few days, and each shift I would spend fifteen minutes on voice recognition, and then would spend the rest of my time chatting.

The week passed, the instruction manual was due and it was time to face the music. I decided to write something… click the L button… etc.

“I just got an email from the university. I have some troubling news.” Shit. My scholarships. Dominick took off his glasses. “The school has decided to put a stop to the software. The license has expired.”

I said, “Whatever’s best for the university."

“Because of your hard work and commitment to this project, I’m going to promote you to lab manager of the engineering building.” He gave me a raise, bumping me up to nine dollars an hour, which was damn good money at the time. I was a good lab manager.

/////

After finishing college, I got a job as a waiter in a restaurant. But I also had to wash dishes.

Sadly, I wasn't very good at it. I was slow.

The restaurant needed clean dishes to keep running. So, even though I was slow, I had to keep going.

The owner would tell me to just keep washing.

He often came over to me at the sink, shaking his head and yelling.

He'd say, "Wash the pots first! Why are you washing the plates? We have lots of plates!"

When he got really frustrated, he'd grab the spray nozzle from me and

quickly clean a bunch of pots in just a few minutes.

I got a job as used car salesman.

Apparently, you need zero qualifications to become a used-car salesman."

The car lot manager, Larry, was a sixty-year-old car salesman and a alcoholic. I wouldnt see him for days and then he would come and sell ten Dodge Neons in a week.

I looked up to him as a top-notch car pusher.

I learnt car sales from Larry and soon i became good that i could afford HomeTown Buffet once a week.

and i know one day, if i worked hard and I'd be able to afford Red Lobster.

////

It's been three days since I lost the pool key, and now my mom is mad at me. It feels like she has a superpower that keeps her angry without a break whenever I mess up, which is why I try my best to never do anything wrong.

It's like there's a flashing neon sign on my forehead: "HORRIBLE, TERRIBLE, GOOD-FOR-NOTHING KID WHO LOST THE POOL KEY. $50 DOWN THE DRAIN!"

I try to explain to her that Cindy and I put up twenty flyers all over, and I understand that fifty dollars is equivalent to three hundred and fifty tomans in Iran, which is a lot of money to flush down the toilet. That's what it'll feel like if we have to pay the landlady.

"Why don't you check the clothes dryer and all your pockets?" my dad suggests, im filled with hope. I search through all my clothes, inspecting the washer and dryer, even go through the vacuum cleaner bag. I c heck between the sofa cushions and manage to find twelve cents.

But still, no pool key. The following day, my dad suggests praying to Saint Anthony, claiming it always works. "Saint Anthony, you mean?" I ask.

My mom , suggests we ask Saint Anthony to come over and look for the key instead. "He's a saint, so he's been dead for a long time," I tell her. "If you think a dead man is going to help you find the key, good luck," she retorts.

but I decide to pray, and, my prayers are answered when a neighbor finds the key gives it to the apartment office.

//

communication is the key. That's the key to a relationship. That's how you build intimacy, through communication. It's very important to talk and listen to your partner so you can both grow as a unit.

but It's just talking and talking and talking. And I was listening to every word 'cause I thought, you know, there was a point. But there's no point. I should've hired an AI for her to talk to. 'Cause there were so many things I just didn't care about. "Should I move this couch or get a new one? I don't know what to do with this room. What do you think?"

It was a psychotic, babbling conveyor belt of nonsense. "I went to get my nails done, but they didn't have the polish I want.

One of the differences was, I learned this from her, raised to ask questions. You have to ask questions like, "Why? How come? How much? That much? Why should I spend that much?" And, , we don't want to ask questions 'cause we don't want any information. "Look, I didn't see nothin', I don't know nothin'.

" So the questions started driving me crazy. It was like falling asleep with a Spanish radio station on.

Why do you think we possess some mysterious knowledge we're keeping from you? We go to see a movie, she's like, "Now, who's that guy?" "Did I write this thing? I came in with you. How the hell do I know who that guy is? What do you want me to do, show up early?

So she leaves, right? It's all over.

I'm sitting in my room for two weeks straight. my roommate says

They don't want you to talk to them. They don't want you to listen to them. They want you to agree with them. And if you don't agree with them, they just keep talking and talking and talking until you do. and then they will say I'm glad we talked about it.'"

//////

When I was a kid, I had this bright yellow Yamaha YZ80 dirt bike. It was super fast, and I loved riding it around. But my mom hated it.

"Josep, you ride that thing, and I swear to God you’re going to die!" she'd yell at me. And I'd be like, "Mom, it's fine. I'm totally safe." But she wasn't having it.

"What, do you want to die? Is that it? Ha?" she'd say. And I'd respond, "No, Mom, I don't want to die." But then she'd hit me with, "Or maybe you want to kill me from worrying. Yes, that’s it—you want to kill me." And I'd just stand there like, "No, Mom, I don’t want to kill you."

But she wasn't done. "No, no, maybe it’s better if I die anyway. I go to heaven, at least I don’t have to worry anymore. Go ahead, keep riding the motorcycle." And I'd be like, "Fine. Fine! I won’t ride the motorcycle anymore!" But let's be real, I kept riding that motorcycle.

One time, a cop caught me riding the bike without headlights. He was really mad and told me to leave the bike and get in his car. I thought I was in big trouble, preparing myself for the worst—prison, electric chair, death by firing squad—whatever it was. I'm practically begging to go to jail at this point, but no dice.he took me home.

When we got to my house, my mom was freaking out because she thought I was missing. She was yelling at my sisters, too. The cop could hear everything, but he didn't seem to care. He walked me up to the door, and my mom answered, acting all polite.

But as soon as she saw me, she flipped out. She dragged me inside and slammed the door in the cop's face. That was the only time my mom ever hit me, but it wasn't physical. It was all the yelling and arguing that really hurt.

clearance sales-denny's

coach andrew

tranmission

[theladyofbloodshed]

thoughts on azriel and mors relationship?? i didn’t love how mor was accused of “leading him on” for 500 years when she literally didn’t express interest as far as i can see. like he made her so uncomfortable she felt she couldn’t come out to what is supposedly her closest family. and i don’t see a lot of people talking about this aspect, i feel like it’s pretty ignored as a fandom.

i see it from both sides but first, lets establish the facts:

Azriel had a crush on Mor

Mor wanted to lose her virginity to one of the greatest Illyrian warriors, took one look at Cassian and knew he would be - and he was kind. She didn't pick Azriel because she knew he had a crush on her.

Cassian knew Azriel had a crush on Mor. He hated the thought of his brother not being just his and Rhys' anymore so ruined it for Azriel

Mor gets dumped in Autumn and Azriel finds her. He tries to confess his feelings and: Azriel thought I deemed him unsuitable. He started to confess what he felt, and I panicked, and … and to get him to stop, to keep him from saying he loved me, I just turned and left.

We know that Mor uses Cassian as a buffer and it makes Azriel uncomfortable (e.g. the foot rub). She sleeps with men (and secretly women) which makes her feel terrible. Mor also tells Feyre that Azriel has had his fair share of lovers too so it's unfair to say Azriel has simply pined for 500 years.

So that's where we are at with this weird scenario. Apart from in ACOMAF when both Mor and Rhys joke that it drives Cassian crazy that he never got to sleep with her again.

Okay, so Mor's perspective:

She is not into him. She uses Cassian to express that. She sleeps with men like Helion to also express that. It's pretty clear that - from Azriel's perspective - that Mor is into men too. She is tactile with him, touching him, she shows concern etc but also does the same for Cassian - but not to the same extent. If anything, Mor is more tactile with Cassian. I don't think it's leading him on though as she's not saying "hey, come to my bed, oh wait no sorry not tonight".

Azriel's perspective:

He tried to tell Mor his feelings at a very emotional moment and she just walked off rather than facing them. He believes he is unworthy of her. Mor says herself "I could peel off my clothes right in front of him and he wouldn’t move an inch. He’ll see himself as a bastard-born nobody, and not good enough for anyone. Especially me." In all those years since, Azriel still has not told Mor his feelings because he thinks he's unworthy.

If we say this whole farce is not down to SJM's messy writing and sloppy retcons... What irks me is that Mor knows that Azriel thinks he's not worthy of her. He thinks that's the only reason. She lets him believe that because its more comfortable for her to do that. I don't think at any point she has led him along and it worries me that after 500 years he's been unable to pick that fact up. It's strange that after 500 years of Mor choosing to cuddle up to Cassian and have foot rubs from him, that Azriel is still interested in her. (But I think a lot of it is due to the rushed retcons).

Mor has not had that conversation for a reason. It could be that - as we've seen in canon - she gets spooked by Azriel's temper. Fair enough. But she also is selfish about it.

I’m petrified to face him —to tell him he’s spent five hundred years pining for someone and something that won’t ever exist. The potential fallout … I like things the way they are.

Mor is scared to tell him she's not into him but not because of something he might do to her, but she likes the situation now. This reads to me as she likes Cassian and Azriel both fussing after her. She caused waves between Cassian and Nesta because she knew her buffer wouldn't be hers. She doesn't want Azriel to dote on another woman and her not be the only one e.g. I don't want him, but nobody else can have him.

Mor does not owe anybody. She doesn't need to come out. However, after 500 years, she is still living a lie. She is not comfortable coming out to the family that we are told is a court of dreamers and they're all amazing and such good people!!! So why can't she? Will they reject her? Will they punish her? Is she scared of the wider reaction from the court? Like I don't understand why she hides a relationship with women from the inner circle. Hiding it from the court, yeah okay, I can imagine the Illyrians would be horrible to her. If she is that scared of Azriel's reaction to her liking women then maybe he shouldn't be in their inner circle??? Does she think they won't be on her side and would support him instead?? Then again, they all know Azriel has a crush on Mor and not one of them has stepped into say she's not into him, Cassian is happy to make Azriel hurt by his flirtatious actions with Mor rather than saying "my brother, she doesn't want you".

It all boils down to sloppy, lazy writing. It makes Mor look like a selfish bitch and Azriel a completely unhinged weirdo. It also shows the IC is really not very close to each other.

[arvandus]

Congratulations on the big 500 ^-^ I'm so happy for you! Could I get a fluffy #24 with Dabi, pretty please? 🥺👉👈

I’m finally getting to thissss! I’m so, so sorry for the delay. For some reason I struggled with this one for a while, then suddenly something clicked, and inspiration took over. I really enjoyed writing this, it felt very cathartic. It might feel a little heavy/emotional at first but trust me when I say that it ends with fluff.

#24: You're The Only Thing That Matters

Pairing: Dabi x GN!Reader

Word count: 1825

Warnings: light angst(?), fluff

---------

You hadn’t meant for this to happen. Then again, no one ever does. It’s not like anyone ever plans for their apartment to get broken into, their personal items stolen...

Then again, it wasn’t entirely unexpected, not with a neighborhood like this. But it was the neighborhood you could afford. Now here you are, hanging out across the street at the local market, too afraid to return upstairs to your ransacked home. You don’t have a car to drive yourself to a motel to stay the night, you don’t trust nighttime public transportation, and you don’t have enough money for an Uber. But you have to go somewhere. So, you take your phone and called the first person that comes to mind...

Dabi.

You can’t help but laugh that his number is the first one you think to dial. From the surface it makes sense – you two have been seeing each other, so of course he should be someone you can trust enough reach out to. But this is Dabi. Even with your intimate relationship with each other, he is often distant and, more often than not, entirely unavailable. It doesn’t surprise you too much... he’s a villain, after all, and sometimes that villain life requires him to disappear for periods at a time.

Which is why you are honestly surprised when he picks up.

“What?” he says gruffly, like he doesn’t have your number saved in his phone; he knows it’s you on the other end.

You bite your lip before answering. “Um, hey, Dabi. It’s me.”

Already you’re struggling to keep your voice from quivering with unshed tears. If you let yourself cry now, you wouldn’t be able to stop, and this really isn’t the place for it. You watch as an old man pushes a cart past you at a snail’s pace, his gnarled fingers grabbing a bag of rice from the shelf.

Dabi must have heard the emotion in your tone though, because his next words come out slightly softer. “Hey, doll. What’s up? Ain’t it a little late for a phone call?”

“Yeah, I’m sorry, I just...” you take a steady breath through your nose in an attempt to ease your jitters. “My place got robbed, and... I need a place to stay for tonight.”

You hear voices in the background, and Dabi growls at them to ‘shut the hell up.’

“I’m sorry,” you say quickly. “Am I bothering you? I didn’t realize you were working...”

“It’s fine, doll.” Dabi replies. “Yeah, you can crash here.”

More arguing. But a moment later, you hear the click of a door being closed and the background noise disappears.

“I’m headin’ over.” Dabi’s voice comes through clearer than before now that there are no other voices coming through the receiver. His deep tone makes your pulse slow down to a manageable pace, and you take a deep sigh a relief. “Where are you?” he asks.

“I’m at the grocery store across the street.” You reply.

“Stay there.” His words are an order, his voice unusually firm. Is that... concern you hear?

“They close in fifteen minutes.” You say nervously.

“I’ll be there in ten.”

You hear the click and the call ends, and you really wish it didn’t. Then again, there was no telling where Dabi was, or what he was in the middle of when you had called.

The minutes tick by slowly as you wait, each minute dragging on longer than the last until you’re certain that you’re in hell, watching time slow to an endless crawl. The ten-minute mark comes and goes, and Dabi is nowhere to be found, and now you’re struggling to keep the panic down. What if he doesn’t come?

But just as the dreaded thought enters your mind, he’s there, appearing next to your shoulder like an apparition, a dark angel disguised in a black hoodie, his mouth covered. You nearly jump out of your skin when he puts an arm around you before you quickly realize it’s him, your protector.

Already you can feel the tears brimming in your lashes, but his words quickly interrupt the flow like a stopper.

“C’mon, doll.” He whispers in your ear. “None of that now.”

He guides you out of the store into the dark night and you stare across the street at your apartment complex. The building is tall and old, looming over you like a bad dream as visions of your ruined home flash in your mind.

“D’ya need to grab anything from your place?” he asks. You shake your head. You don’t want to go in there, even with Dabi present.

“Didja lock the door?” he asks again, and you shake your head again.

“Whoever it was broke it.” You reply. “Please, I just want to go...”

He stares at you for a moment, his blue half-lidded eyes reading the look on your face before he looks away.

“Well, c’mon then.” He says. He guides you to the subway. Once you get on the train, you sit next to him and rest your head on his shoulder as the empty train car sways and bumps on the tracks. You can feel the fear begin to fade away with each passing of the flashing lights through the dirty windows, graffiti carved into their acrylic surface. You interlace your fingers in his, and for once he doesn’t fight it, doesn’t recoil his hand to the safety of his pockets.

The ride is silent and so is the walk to his hideout. He leads you in through the rickety door with the dented doorknob where a ragtag group of people lounge on dirty couches. Your body stiffens instantly, your hand tightening around his as if doing so would fill you with courage you didn’t have.

A man with white hair with the slightest tint of blue-grey glared at you with red eyes. “I thought we agreed on no outsiders?” his voice comes through with a growl, carried on a sneer past scarred lips.

“Shut up.” Dabi snaps at him as he leads you past the group to another door that leads to a hallway.

A couple doors down and he pulls you into what you can only assume is his room – after all, it’s your first time being here; Dabi had never let you visit him before.

“It’s not much, but it’s safe.” Dabi comments as he closes the door behind you.

The bed is messy, the mattress old. You don’t care though. The space smells of Dabi, and as soon as your brain registers that you’re no longer in danger, you buckle down onto his bed and begin to cry with your face in your hands as the aftermath of emotions overflows into your palms.

Dabi removes his hoodie and kneels before you. He watches you in silence, the glaze of his eyes never betraying the emotions tucked away in secrecy. He hates seeing you like this, hates watching you fall apart in front of him. It makes him feel useless. Cautiously, he reaches out and takes your hand from your face, holding your fingers in his warm palm. He can feel the wetness of your tears on them, and he fights the urge to increase his body temperature, to evaporate the evidence of your pain from his skin. Your eyes catch his, red and puffy, and before he can react you throw your arms around his neck and fall into his lap. He catches you – how could he not? – and holds you to him as you empty your emotions into his shoulder.

When the well of your tears has finally dried, you wipe your eyes with the heel of your hand and pull away from him slightly. Dabi can see the exhaustion falling over you in real time, your shoulders slumping and your hold on him loosening into a relaxed grip.

“I’m sorry, I... I just... it’s been a really bad day.” You say, your eyes downcast.

Dabi can’t help but give a dry chuckle as he helps you up to your feet. “Yeah, no shit.”

He sits on the bed and pulls you with him until you’re both lying down on his messy sheets, with you curled into his side.

“Thank you for coming to get me...” you whisper as you rest your cheek against his chest.

“Did you think I wouldn’t?” he teases, but his smile falters when your breath hitches and you don’t answer.

It cuts him deeper than he expects, but at the same time he’s not surprised... he hasn’t exactly been the best boyfriend – is that even what he is? Is that what he’s been to you? It wasn’t like you two ever discussed it; you two just... were. He’s given you so little...

Dabi swallows before he continues, his voice quieter this time, quieter than he’s ever been with you before. “I’m just glad you’re not hurt.” The confession feels weird on his tongue, like a foreign language, but he pushes forward, determined to say what he should have told you sooner. His voice drops even lower to a barely audible whisper. “I’ll always come for you.”

Despite the hush of his words, they feel like a shout. The admission leaves him feeling embarrassed and vulnerable, and a part of him wishes he could take them back, simply because of what they mean. But they don’t come without their own reward - you relax at his words, your body molding against his as your arms tighten around him. It’s the first time he’s been so open with you and the nervousness in his veins gives way to a light euphoria at your acceptance. His arm tightens around you as if he’s afraid you’ll melt away, as if his touch is the only thing keeping you real, his perfect dream come to life. Within minutes, your breaths become deep and even, and Dabi realizes that you’ve fallen asleep on him, your body giving way to its exhaustion after all that had happened. He stares down at you for a long, quiet moment, watching you sleep on him.

Dabi had never put anyone else first before, not even you despite your closeness. But when he answered your call and heard the fear in your voice, it was as if the ground had been pulled out from under him, his entire world thrown into chaos. If anything had happened to you... If you’d gotten hurt in any way...

His grip on you tightens a little more and he brushes his lips against your hair. Maybe it’s the bravery he’s feeling at your acceptance of him. Or maybe it’s the fear of what could have been. But his next words come out in a hushed whisper, a secret confession meant more for himself than you.

“You’re the only thing that matters.”

And even though you’re supposed to be asleep, your soft words hum into his chest, burying themselves like sunflower seeds.

“I love you too.”

[scarletemeterio-thesecond]

Hello! Could i request a Sokka imagine where the reader is Tophs older sister who tries to leave her home when Toph join the Gaang? The MC is an outcast in her family, even by Toph. Toph doesnt want her to join because she claims she cant bend so shed be useless, this makes Sokka defend her and she joins along. The real reason shes an outcast in her family tho, is because shes a fire bender, and she has to hide her secret, only reavling the truth by accident after protecting Sokka in battle.

i absolutely loved this concept and i finally managed to finish this fic, i am so sorry for the long ass wait, but i'm starting to catch up on some old requests. hope you like it!

•••

Secrets (Sokka x Fem!Reader)

Warnings: none i think

Genre: Fluff i guess

Fandom: Avatar The Last Airbender

Summary: See request

Word Count: 1938

Reader uses she/her pronouns

•••

Being home was too much for (Y/N). She felt like she was invisible in her own family. The Beifongs had taken her in when she was little, but when they found out that she was a firebender, things changed completely.

When Toph was little, they were quite close, but then her parents managed to break them apart. They'd tell Toph that she was dangerous but also that she was useless because she couldn't bend.

So during the last few years, she felt like an outcast. She would go to the ring most of the time and analyze the movements of the fighters, trying to train herself. She eventually managed to improve her firebending, which had an unique style based on earthbending, but she still had a lot to learn.

She stopped going to the ring once she realized that Toph was the Blind Bandit, she didn't want to run into her outside of the house, but kept practicing on her own.

But suddenly one day the Avatar came to her home. He was looking for an earthbender teacher and she immediately knew that the person he was interested in was Toph. Dinner was a little awkward, but once everyone was ready for bed, things seemed much calmer.

(Y/N) was outside the house, enjoying the fresh air of the night when suddenly, she heard her sister talking.

''Even though I was born blind, I've never had a problem seeing. I see with earthbending. It's kind of like seeing with my feet, '' she said. ''I feel the vibrations in the earth, and I can see where everything is-- you, that tree, even those ants. And also my sister around here somewhere,'' she chuckled at her words. Even though they didn't have the best relationship, it was nice hearing Toph call her her sister. It made her feel a bit normal, even if back at the house she was still an outcast.

She stopped paying attention to the two kids and lost herself in her thoughts, but she got out of her trance when she heard an unfamiliar voice. (Y/N) went running back to the house and desperately called her parents.

''What's the meaning of this?'' Asked her father, clearly annoyed at the noise.

''Toph and the Avatar! Someone took them!''

Everyone went outside, following her, and they realized that the captors had left a note.

''If you want to see your daughter again, bring 500 gold pieces to the arena,'' read the girl from the Water Tribe. ''And it's signed 'Xin Fu and The Boulder.'''

''Master Yu, I need you to help me get my daughter back.''

''We're going with you,'' said the waterbender.

''I wanna go, too,'' said (Y/N). She was looking at her father as the words left her mouth.

''No, you can't come, (Y/N), you-.''

''I don't care. I know you've broken the relationship between me and Toph, but she's still my sister and I want to go.''

''You're not a bender, (Y/N), it would only be for the worse.''

''You know I can help,'' she muttered, knowing that her father knew what she meant.

There was a small pause while they shared a look. ''Fine, you can come, but don't try to do anything you might regret.'' He walked away from her and soon they all headed towards the arena.

Once Toph was free, her father finally saw what she was capable of. The way back to the house was awkward, to say the least.

After the conversation that Toph had with her father, there was a bigger tension in the house than usual.

A few moments later, (Y/N) heard some noise close to her room, and when she opened the door a little, she realized that her sister was escaping. She considered the idea of staying home, of being the only Beifong daughter and she couldn't think of something worse.

So as fast as she could, she changed her clothes to something more comfortable and ran quietly outside.

"Wait, guys! Please!" Said (Y/N) while running towards the group. "I wanna come too," she told them. "Please?"

She could see how Aang, Katara and Sokka all started nodding with smiles on their faces, but whem she looked at Toph, her expression was completely different.

"You can't," said the girl.

"What? Why not?"

"Yeah, Toph, what's the problem?" Asked Katara.

"Look, (Y/N), I don't mean to offend you but why would you even come with us?"

"Because I don't belong here, and you know it."

"You're not a bender, you would only be a liability to us."

"Hey! Don't be like that, Toph!" Exclaimed Sokka.

(Y/N) already had some tears on her eyes but quickly got rid of them. She didn't want the others to see her cry.

Sokka got down from Appa and stood next to (Y/N). "(Y/N) is coming with us, okay? Now let's go, we don't want to waste any time." He grabbed the girl by the arm and helped her get on top of Appa.

During their whole journey away from the Beifongs' house, Sokka and (Y/N) talked a lot.

He liked having someone like him around, it made him feel like he wasn't so alone; and she liked feeling like someone cared a little bit about her.

-

The days went by and (Y/N) could finally tell that she'd found her new family. Even her relationship with her sister had improved significantly since they'd both left home.

Still, no one knew that she was actually a firebender. She hated lying to everyone but she also didn't know how to tell them; in her head, she thought that they wouldn't want her to be with them anymore, she was afraid.

"Hey, (Y/N)," she heard someone say. She looked up and saw Sokka standing next to her. He took a seat by her side. "What are you thinking about?"

"Hi, Sokka. It's nothing, really," she tried to sound convincing but knew that she'd failed. Out of everyone in the group, Sokka was the one she was closest to. She even had a little crush on him, and the fact that she was lying to him was destroying her.

"You always say that but I never believe you."

"I already told you, Sokka, I can't talk about it." She looked at him and he gave her a sympathetic look.

"You can tell me anything, (Y/N). And I promise I won't tell your secret to anyone else."

"No, I can't. You'd hate me if I told you, trust me."

"What? I could never hate you!" He exclaimed and she smiled a little. (Y/N) knew he believed what he was saying, but would it still be true even if he found out what she really was?

Sokka took one of the maps he'd taken from the library, trying to decipher it while still enjoying (Y/N)'s company.

"Waterbending bomb!" Katara yelled from afar, and then everyone saw her get into the water, splashing everyone.

"Sure, 5.000-year-old maps from the spirit library. Just splash some water on 'em," complained Sokka.

(Y/N) couldn't help but giggle a bit at his reaction.

They had to figure out a way to finally get to Ba Sing Se, and The Serpent's Pass seemed to be the only way, but that was until they met a couple that told them about the ferries.

However, the plan was a total failure, so the only option they had left was the dangerous Serpent's Pass.

It wasn't easy, but they eventually made it to the great city of Ba Sing Se. But there was something waiting for them there: a drill with the Fire Nation insignia on it.

It was obvious who was behind that, the Fire Nation princess herself, along with her two friends. Luckily, Sokka came up with a plan, they were going to take the drill down from the inside.

"Okay, we're gonna go with Toph and then we'll get inside of it, okay?" Sokka said.

They all nodded and got ready to go, but the earthbender suddenly stopped for a second.

"(Y/N), I think that you should stay here."

"What?" She was confused. They had been getting along a lot better lately, but that comment took her by surprise.

"You could get hurt, it's not safe. Plus, well, you can't bend and you know that."

"Toph, I can take care of myself, okay? I told you a million times before!"

"I know, but-."

"She's coming with us," interrupted Sokka. "She is one of us and we won't leave anyone behind, okay? And she's not helpless, Toph."

The little girl tried to say something, but the young boy didn't let her.

When they finally reached the drill, Toph stayed outside, and the rest of them went inside.

"I need a plan of this machine. Some schematics that show what the inside looks like. Then we can find its weak points."

"Where are we gonna get something like that?" Asked Aang.

"Maybe we should break something, then some engineer would have to come to fix it," suggested (Y/N).

"Good idea," said Sokka, and he got on with it.

Once they had the map, they knew what they'd have to do, but it wasn't going to be easy.

Aang and Katara had to cut through the braces of the structure, but they turned out to be a lot thicker than they thought. They luckily realized they didn't have to cut all the way through them, instead it was enough with just cutting a little to weaken them.

All of them were focused on the braces, so the only one that noticed the three Fire Nation girls was (Y/N). She realized Azula was about to blast some fire towards Sokka, and she quickly pushed him away and instinctively threw some fire at her, too.

Everyone was shocked, even the three girls that were trying to fight them, but there was no time for explanations.

Katara, Sokka and (Y/N) escaped through the pipeline and even though the battle wasn't over, as soon as they were out of the drill Sokka started interrogating (Y/N).

"You were a firebender this whole time? Why didn't you say anything? And why doesn't Toph know? I mean, she's your sister and- Wait," he made a pause, suddenly realising something. "That was your secret, right?"

She nodded slightly, and looked away to try and hide her blushing face.

"(Y/N), how could you think we would ever hate you for that? That I would hate you?" She could see the hurt in his face, and she hated herself for it.

"The Fire Nation is the enemy, so I guess I figured you wouldn't want me in your team anymore if you found out where I'm really from."

"(Y/N), you can't change where you come from, and we would never hate you for that," said Katara in a sweet voice, still using her bending against Ty Lee.

Sokka wrapped his arms against (Y/N), which took her by surprise, but she quickly wrapped hers around his waist. "Thank you for protecting me back there. And once again, I could never hate you, okay?" They pulled away just a little to look at each other and then he kissed her forehead.

They knew they were still in the middle of a battle and that Katara was just a few meters away from them, but right there in that moment, it didn't matter. It was only (Y/N) and Sokka, wrapped around eachothers' arms, finally starting to realize their feelings for one another.

•••

TAGLIST

@talas-starlight @just-a-belgian-girl @sorrythatspussynal @siriuslyslyslytherin

[ikeromantic]

Fake It Til You Make It

A Mitsuhide Akechi fanfiction - approx. 2200 words. This scene takes place post-romantic epilogue. Fluff and a little spice.

First: Mitsuhide and the Maiden

Previous: Adrift

Kyubei watched the innkeeper through narrowed eyes. Though the man was clearly nervous, he didn’t seem to be lying. His story hadn’t changed in the last three tellings, so either he was an accomplished liar or he was telling the truth.

“L-lord Akechi and the woman left with one of the Akechi warriors. Right after we saw the fire across the lake,” the innkeeper said for the fourth time. “Then the storm came and after that, no one saw him.”

“Do you remember anything else? Did anyone else come in after they left? Did you see anyone acting strangely?”

The man shook his head. “No, I mean, not really? Everyone was a bit strange after we saw the blaze. Wondering if Azuchi was still standing.” He frowned. “You think it might have been Lord Akechi? Him disappearing like that right after -”

Kyubei cut him off. “No. That was the work of the Mouri clan.” It wasn’t the first person he’d spoken with that suspected. And why wouldn’t they? Mitsuhide was only just back from his misadventure at the shogun’s side. An ally in disgrace. A man not to be trusted.

The worst part of all this was that Kyubei really had no idea what his lord wanted him to do. Should he quash the rumors? Encourage them? Mitsuhide’s instructions from his last letter said nothing about an attack on Azuchi - not like this - and nothing about disappearing. Of course, he pretended like he knew exactly what was going on. He had to, until he received additional instructions.

“So . . . am I free to go?” The innkeeper was frowning now. His nervousness replaced by a desire to get back to making money at the inn.

“For now,” Kyubei said. He gave the man a hard stare. “If I need anything else, I will send someone for you.”

The innkeeper bowed and left, leaving Kyubei alone with his thoughts. It really seemed that in the storm, his lord had simply vanished into thin air. And Miyake too.

Perhaps they'd left with Ranmaru, who was also missing. But if so, there would be a letter. A message. Something!

The castle staff had no idea where he was - they’d waited for him to return for hours. Miyake’s squad couldn’t find their commander either. Both men were expected.

And the chatelaine . . . his lady. Kyubei worried that he had failed to protect her again.

***

Morning came with pale light through a high window. It fell across four careworn, sleeping faces. Sasuke and Miyake lay in a tangle of blankets on the floor, and in a bed, Mitsuhide clung to his little mouse. He woke with the first notes of bird-song, but kept his eyes shut. He wasn’t ready to confront the strange world of 500 years in the future just yet.

His little one stirred in his arms as the sound of morning birds turned into a hum of outside activity. “Is it . . . are we really . . .” She opened her eyes and looked around Sarutobi’s flat. “We’re really here.”

Mitsuhide nodded.

“I want to be happy about it, but . . .”

He shushed her with a kiss. “It will be fine. Worrying won’t return us faster.”

She sighed and buried her face against his chest. “I know. I just hope everyone is alright.”

“They will be,” Mitsuhide reassured her. He didn’t think of it as a lie - simply an assumption he based on his past experience. Nobunaga would handle this threat as he did others that came before it.

And Kyubei would see to what the left hand needed to be doing.

Sasuke sat up, rubbing his face. “I apologize for the accommodations,” he told them. The same apology he’d given the night before.

“At least we had somewhere to sleep.” The chatelaine sat up and wiggled out of the blanket. “I should probably check on my flat and see if it’s still mine. If so, we won't have to impose on you a second night. Although,” she sighed. “I don’t have my ID or my keys or anything.”

“I don't mind,” Sasuke replied. “You are welcome to continue crashing here. Although, we may not be here for long. Weren’t there activities you wanted to do in this time? While you can?” His left eyebrow lifted almost imperceptibly.

Mitsuhide gave her one of his slow, warm smiles. His fingers traced a path down her spine. “Yes, you did mention some things I would like to see, since we are here.”

His little mouse arched like a cat against his hand. “I did . . . yes. Alright. Since we’re here, we might as well try to enjoy it!”

Miyake rolled over on the floor and pulled the blanket over his head.

“I take it that means you plan to stay here for the day?”

Sasuke answered for the half-asleep warrior. “Actually, I would really appreciate it if Miyake would accompany me. I need to go to my university and make some arrangements.”

Miyake groaned and sat up. He blinked as his gaze went around the room, taking in all the strange objects. Finally, he settled on the ninja. “You need protection or something?”

“No. I don’t think anyone will attack me.” Sasuke felt around for his glasses and slid them on. “But I expect to be moving some heavy equipment in the lab. And I may have a friend who can help us out with those arrangements, if you're there to corroborate my story.”

“Corr what?” Miyake frowned.

“Authenticate. Like a two factor security key.” The ninja grinned.

The warrior looked to Mitsuhide uncertainly.

“If Sarutobi believes you can assist him today, then that is what you will do. I am sure my fiancée and I will be fine.”

The chatelaine looked less certain about this, but she nodded agreement.

The four of them took turns dressing in the ‘washroom’ to give each other privacy. His morning was one of surprise as the . . . toilet . . . squirted him with water. And warm or cold water came from a metal spigot at the turn of a handle too, spilling into a porcelain basin. There were more smokeless lanterns - electric lights they were called - and other wonders.

Had Mitsunari been there, he was sure the scholar could have spent weeks studying every device but Mitsuhide just needed to know how to use it.

In this place, he was the naïve child, and his little one, the wise teacher. Such a shift in their positions was hard to take. Mitsuhide didn’t think of himself as arrogant but this situation was humbling in the extreme. Thankfully, he managed to get through dressing and breakfast without any serious mishaps.

Sasuke and Miyake left to the university. The flat was silent in their wake. Mitsuhide and his little mouse sat on the edge of the bed. She was tapping away at a . . . tablet . . . to get access to her accounts. The electronic scroll was interesting, at least. With pictures and writing all lit up so you could read it even in the dark.

Mitsuhide stood and stretched, trying to get used to moving in his new clothes. They were Sarutobi’s and didn’t quite fit. He was dressed in a pair of pants that clung tightly to his legs and ended short of his ankle. The top was a soft weave, dyed black. It sported an odd blue character on it and the word Sonic. Sarutobi said the picture was a hedgehog, whatever that was.

He would have liked to wear something without a picture on it. He’d had the choice between this one and something with a lizard that walked on two legs and shot fire from its mouth. Those were the only two shirts the ninja had that were long enough to cover him to his waist. And there was no way he was walking around with a bare midriff. Even if his little mouse looked interested in the idea.

Her midriff was bare afterall, she’d laughed. And it was - sort of. She tied one of Sasuke’s shirts in a bow under her breasts and had a pair of his shorts on. Though Mitsuhide wasn’t familiar with the clothes of this time, he thought she looked like a child trying to fit into her father’s clothes. Endearingly cute, but ill fit. Some of the clothes they saw women wearing on the way in the night before would have looked much better on her.

She looked up as if she knew he was thinking about her. “Ok, I think we’re ready to go.”

“Where to, my love?”

“Well, first to my apartment. It looks like my rent payments have all been made. And the building manager knows me so I should be able to get a spare key.” Her smile was all relief.

They arrived to the apartment, a small space in a tall building that reminded Mitsuhide of a castle, if the castle was robbed of all charm and beauty. Her room was utilitarian and sterile, and while there was still the wonder of technology, he could see none of her personality in the space. He said as much.

“Hm, yeah. I didn’t really have time to decorate. The apartment came furnished. I moved in and then, well,” she laughed. “I ended up in Azuchi with you.”

Mitsuhide pulled her into a hug. “A fate worse than death, little mouse?”

“You know it wasn’t,” she giggled, laughing harder as he ran his fingers down her sensitive sides. Holding her like this felt like home, even if nothing else was familiar.

After several slow breaths, they let go of each other.

“I must confess, I cannot see you living in this place. It doesn’t seem very safe. And you don’t have much room for your sewing.” Mitsuhide couldn’t help but poke into her cabinets, shelves, and drawers.

She nodded. “Yeah, it’s pretty small but it was a place I could afford on my own.”

Mitsuhide heard the pride in her voice. He smiled. “I can imagine you coming here, determined to make it on your own.” He turned from the cabinet he was inspecting to see her stripping off her shirt.

Her pert breasts were a pleasant surprise, but she crossed her arms over them as soon as she saw him looking. “I’m just changing clothes! I didn’t want to wear Sasuke’s basketball shorts all day.”

“Please, continue.”

“I - I can’t while you’re staring at me!” She turned so that all he could see was her back.

Mitsuhide laughed. “Are we not lovers? How many times have I kissed, nibbled, caressed every bit of your skin from head to toe?”

She shivered, skin dimpling with remembered touches. Slow, nervous, she turned back around. Her arms lowered, revealing her chest again. “You can watch if you want to.”

He wasn’t sure if it was nerves or mischief that made her voice squeak at the end. Either was amusing. “Mmm, I’m a lucky man to get a show.”

“You are,” she smiled. Her fingers went to the tie on the shorts. They fell away, pooling around her feet. Underneath, she wore nothing.

Mitsuhide sucked in a breath.

Her hips swayed as she walked to her wardrobe. She glanced over her shoulder at him and fluttered her eyelashes, trying to be saucy. The effect was a little spoiled by the blush that ran from her cheeks to the tips of her ears. From within the wardrobe she pulled out a little twist of cloth. It was light blue and made of some embroidered material.

He didn’t realize he could see her skin through it until she slipped it on, slowly pulling the fabric taut over her curves. Though she was technically covered, it was somehow more tempting than just skin alone. “What . . . is that?”

“Panties.” She giggled. Then she pulled out a matching bit of cloth and wrapped it around her chest. The rise of her breasts were restrained by this new piece of clothing as she reached behind her as if to tie it.

“And that?”

“My bra.” She turned right, then left, letting him get a good view.

The sight made Mitsuhide want to simultaneously rip the clothing off her and still enjoy looking at her in them. It wasn’t possible to have both . . .

“To be honest, it’s been kind of nice not wearing these the last few months. But I think I would feel weird if I didn’t wear them with my modern clothes.”

“I like them.” Mitsuhide smiled widely. A grin that brought heat to her gaze before she looked away, suddenly shy. He knew this ground well. Even here in a world where everything was strange, his little one was the same.

He stepped forward, reaching to cup her cheek. His other hand settled lightly on her hip, fingertips stroking the skin just above the fabric of her panties. She inhaled sharply, lips parting. Mitsuhide took the invitation.

The kiss was, at first, gentle and sweet, but the press of their bodies built heat between them. Their breath mingled, tongues entwined. Hands grasping, stroking, pulling. Tearing.

Mitsuhide stopped at the sound of fabric ripping.

His little one gasped and reached down to feel the damage. Her eyes widened. “You . . . tore my panties.” Then she started to laugh.

He laughed too. Never in his life had he expected a woman so wonderful. A woman he would want badly enough to - literally - tear the clothes off her. This kind of passion he’d always believed was fake. Yet here he was. It was unthinkable. Incredible. “I love you,” Mitsuhide told her, smiling so widely that it hurt.

“I love you too.”

She gestured to the wardrobe. "I should probably, you know. Finish." It took only a moment for her to shimmy into her own clothes. Then they headed out into this strange world that was his home 500 years after death.

Next: Kitsune's Day Out

[ceilingfan5]

Out of This World

congratulations to my 500 followers giveaway winner @terezis, who asked for “alien taako accidentally kidnaps kravitz”

and thanks to everyone who participated!!! 

“Where the hell are you going at this hour?” Kravitz’s roommate Sloane asks, looking up from the egregious snuggling she’s got going on with her girlfriend. On Kravitz’s couch, no less. 

“Didn’t you see that light? I have to go investigate! It could be- It could be any number of things! A meteor, a spatial anomaly, maybe even a-”

“Helicopter?” Sloane’s voice is dryer than the toast he had for dinner. Kravitz doesn’t let it dampen his mood. 

“It could be something truly mysterious, and I can’t abide letting well enough alone.”

“You never can,” she sighs. “Well, be safe out there. Don’t forget your keys.”

“Mhm,” Kravitz says, jamming his feet into mismatched shoes. “Don’t wait up for me.”

“Super won’t, so don’t die or get kidnapped or whatever.”

“I’ll be perfectly fine!” 

And Kravitz, who has no sense of predilection or self-preservation, thunders down the stairs and out into the streets with his fifty dollar flashlight and a passionately misplaced sense of adventure. 

He startles a few street cats, coos at a racoon, trips over trash, and just past the apartment complex, he spots it again. That powerful blue glow. It’s in the wrong direction for some kind of event or party--it’s closer to the farms at the edge of town than it is anything that ought to be blue in the middle of the night. And then, as Kravitz gets closer, he hears a hum, a soft, thrumming, nearly musical hum, and he sees it, he fucking sees it-

A spaceship. 

He cackles in unbridled validated glee and then slaps his hands over his mouth, dropping his fancy flashlight with all the lumens money can buy, reflecting on its way to the ground in three pairs of glowing gold eyes and a mouthful of sharp, sharp teeth. 

Something like a cross between static electricity and cement-hard water from doing a belly flop hits him, and he doesn’t see it anymore. 

  He wakes up in a space so white that it’s blue, searing his eyes with the brightness. His whole body is sore, but in a heavy way that almost feels nice. He blinks slowly, his eyelids sticking like windshield wipers on an old car during the first snow of the season, and something--someone? humanoid appears in his hazy vision. They have four arms and a long, golden brown tail, gilded with a smattering of freckles that reflect in the light like the bottom of a river untouched for centuries, and then, those six frightening, beautiful eyes, staring right into Kravitz’s soul, blinking asymmetrically, and twice. A nictitating membrane. Bafflingly cool. Kravitz tries to sit up and his head protests dramatically, and the figure swears--in English. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, what am I going to- how am I going to explain this- shit, shit, shit- Don’t do that, lay down, stupid adorable creature...” Two of those four hands gently press on his chest and he lays back down, mouth hanging open. 

“Who are you?” he asks, even though he could have opened with any number of questions, perhaps namely what do you want with me? 

“Oh, fuck, is my translator working? That’s a bonus. Oh, ancient skies, what a fucking mess...I can’t believe I- I’m going to be in so much trouble-”

“Because I saw you?”

“Well- yes, and also because I stunned you, and brought you aboard, which, believe it or not, has exacerbated- that’s a weird word, why is your language like this?--It’s made shit so much worse, because I’m dumb as hell and twice as fired. If not executed.” 

“Can I look around?”

“Babe, your listening comprehension isn’t great, is it? I’m gonna be in so much trouble for you even catching a glimpse of this- motherfucker, I should have stuck to cows, cows are classic, can’t go wrong with cows-” The alien, because, that’s- this person has to be an alien, there’s no other way, the set is too expensive and complete, the technology glittering at the edge of his vision is too complex, the makeup team would have to be intense?? The alien wrings two of their hands, and then the other two, fidgeting nervously. They pick grass off of Kravitz in a way that’s almost affectionate, and Kravitz has a hard time compiling all the facts, here.

“What’s your name?”  

“Taako,” Taako says, absolutely miserable. “But you shouldn’t know that. I should put you back--or kill you--but I don’t know if I can, I mean, look at you! Four little limbs and two little eyes! And you’re so curious and...cute.”

“You’re not so bad yourself.” Kravitz can’t help it. He’s always wanted to kiss an alien, and, presented with the road to that opportunity, he finds himself taking it with no hesitation. “What can I do to get you to not kill me today?”

“I could wipe your memory, I guess...”

"Not ideal."

"Not ideal, no, it does sort of tangle all your business up there a little." Taako frowns, which is a very strange thing to see a person with six eyes do. His lips are purple and they look...incredibly kissable, even drawn up in a frustrated little bow. Kravitz had probably better focused on not getting lobotomized, but he's as gay as he is a nerd, so he always would have been fucked in a situation like this. 

"Maybe, uh, maybe," he says, casting about for a solution, any solution. "Um, what, why are you here? What's going on with the, the cows?" 

"Well, we're studying your planet, obviously?" Taako walks away from Kravitz, pacing anxiously, and Kravitz takes the chance to sit up. It makes his mouth go dry and his head even more cottony, but he blinks blearily at Taako and smiles a little. "We're trying to learn how things work, how your society works, you know, see if you guys can handle the real shit, see if- You've got these incredible bonds, and I mean, my home sort of has those, but it's not the same, and- it would be real powerful if we could bring that kind of thing home."

"Guess you're not finding those bonds in cows, huh?" Kravitz has his out, and it's a good one. He can't stop grinning. He hopes Taako doesn't think it's a threat display. "Well, if I promise not to tell anyone about you, and you promise not to tell anyone about me, I could tell you some hot Earth facts, anything you want to know?" 

Taako bites his lip, folding both pairs of arms and pausing his pacing, and he looks at Kravitz, incredibly tempted.

"Anything?" 

"Anything. And if I don't know it, I'll look it up." Kravitz holds up his phone, and the reflection of it glints in Taako’s huge, hungry eyes. He grabs it and turns it on. 

"Oh this is good, this is very, very good. But-" 

"But you wanted to know about bonds, right?" 

"Right. And I promise I'm not trying to pry, but you keep thinking about kissing? And I want to know what that is." 

Kravitz swallow hard, knocked on his ass twofold. Taako can read his thoughts? Taako wants to kiss him???

"I can show you how, if you want," Kravitz says, embarrassed but also thrilled beyond all recognition. "Unless you think you're, you know, poisonous to me, or something-"

"It's probably fine?"

"It's probably fine!!" 

Taako walks over to him, tail flicking anxiously behind him. He's beautiful. Kravitz has finally met an alien, and he's beautiful. 

"We just- with our mouths?" 

"Exactly, just. Do what feels right." 

"Okay, I can, I can do that. And nobody is going to know, nobody will find out, it's fine-" 

Kravitz kisses him and Taako kisses back, sloppy and awkward and wonderful and Kravitz grabs the lapels of his uniform and pulls him closer and Taako makes a happy little trill and all six of his eyes flutter closed. 

They pull back to breathe, Taako panting a little, and he looks at Kravitz and nods. 

"I'm not going to kill you. Or. Scramble you, or whatever." 

"Nice," Kravitz says, grinning like an absolute idiot. "Can I tell you all the cool things I know about Earth?" 

"Maybe one more kiss. Or five. Can I have ten? Ten seems like a good number. Fuck, this is way better than cows!"

"I should hope so!" Kravitz laughs. 

[captainkurosolaire]

I challenge you to pick five Tumblrs in your social circle and tell them something you admire about their blog!

Only 5? I could probably do 500. However, that's determined by what's considered my social circle. I'm often in my head being incredibly social continuously is really a challenge of mine. I'm always actively marching to something, my flame of passion when I have it, I can do some crazy stuff but it diminishes relatively quickly, so I try to cling. But I'll up your thing and list 25 of my fave people. Ask me this same thing in a Month, I'll keep doing 25, until I do all the people. How about that? (If anyone wants to be taken off mention let me know.)

@eligos-venator

- Has one of the most intelligent and sophisticated minds, I've had the pleasure to know. Literally admire all his aesthetics, work, head-cannons, ideas. It's only a benefit that the dude shares some OC characteristics to my own (Winning features). I really enjoyed the short-thread we did. It was incomplete, mainly because of my faults. I want to actually be better to give him a proper delivery and RP worth his time, but he's incredibly worth the investment of eyes.

@mischiefandmystics

- If there was a Mount Rushmoore of writers who kept me in this endeavor, encouraged me. Sun'ra is one of them. His characterization skills, writing, the delivery and how believable his character is, they're masterful acts.

@mishivymendi

- I wouldn't be nearly tamed or as creatively freed if it wasn't for this gem. She broke my shell, I really didn't at a time ever see myself being anything really beyond a smut writer, but Mishi not only saw potential in me, but brought it out. Her stories and world's she brings to life are so majestically colorful.

@asymphonyofash

- My go-to. He's another pillar individual who saw things in me past just the obvious perception, (Probably second longest XIV RPer I know.) Taught me a lot of the lore, I shot him up and he's sort of become my stapled rock. He's right aside Sun'ra met them about the same, both took me under their wing's as I quietly observed and absorbed.

@lavender-hemlock

- We're always up and front with each other, never feeling like I couldn't say anything around, extremely rare to share that these days. Her gif's are legendary, something on my own terms I want to soar in quality. The writing she does is astounding. Character has so many mysterious pages that are quite addictive to want to explore and learn them. (Encore 20 below-cut)

@under-the-blood-moonlight - Her sweetness and artwork and overall is just a friendly presence to be around. I cherish them so much. One I can jive with more darker undertones with. She's one the most hardworking and ambitiously creative people. I'd mail them infinite hugs if could. Thanks for being you! @roxinova - I owe a lot of credit to her. She's constantly OOC and everything was nudging me too be more inclusive to things and involved heavenly. It's rare for me. I'm really horrible about that my autism sets me back socially, I constantly will be drowned by the next day and be reverted back to better off alone, that's my major crux and weakness. But her thoughtfulness, these things, aren't ever foreign to me, I do pay attention probably better than any would ever give me credit. She's a beacon model to have as a friend. @corpse-dancer - Haven't ran into many words with them, but her character, screenshot game, expressiveness, they're all a marvel to constantly see, alongside her attitude and bringing life character. I do think if I were better, we would click quite splendidly. They've recently reminded and motivated me to pick-up my daily-practice, or try too. Keep being a rockstar. @fair-fae - Few who wouldn't know who she is in this community. She's been in my opinion a huge core. I'm certain she's inspired many who weren't even RPers too try it by seeing her at the Quicksands or elsewhere, a tyme ago. Making no exception, I was even one of those. I used to be in QS every-single day and was often doing my shameless stuff. Though her presence first did show me there's a lot more. I admire her in all fields. Also appreciate her adopting me to the FC and her always thinking of others and giving events, or her aesthetics and portrayal, its the epitome of swan elegance. @thorcat - One of my most treasured friends. Been RPing with them for a longtime. There's never anything complicated between us or a rift of drama, it's just let's go and have fun. We really mesh well, I've welcomed nearly ever character and got the privilege to RP with nearly all them. They always open up envelope and help me, settle on back and just laugh. Whether used to be waking up to their characters humping my afk one or use randomly having a hardcore banter between Ufah and Captain and capturing them as a voidal pet. Memories with them isn't something I'd ever want to lose. I love ya! Never stop enjoying life for anything. @lukawarrioroflight - I get in the gutter find myself lacking motivation or writing, discouraged even... But I never have felt, I could ever do any wrong with this person, they bring the light out of me. So no matter what, how many hospital-beds I yearly visit, it's because of this rare nature, that I come back, even if they're the only one's ever to read my stuff. I would do it for them alone. @scholarlybreadbun - I've only been back recently and they've so much warmth. Their presence is the sun of inviting. The couple and posing all the shipping that stuff makes me even melt. I'm not particularly talented in regards to posing couples, but I took notice of them along time ago and set on quietly improving. Really like them for them, wouldn't ever want them to change that. Ideally look forward to be in their orbit longer so I can bask in them. @seascrapes - Been mutual with them for a while. Their aesthetics and character is all S+ level. I appreciate throwing back tagged prompts with them, one of many people I really think would be enjoyable to collab with any other seafarers. The artwork and pieces of Tal Brook, are breathtaking as ever exceptionally too, not to mention. Love your stuff matey, you're a king. @mai-takeda - Is a myth. Her absolutely sheer friendliness and her attitude, are so positive influencing, I was so thrilled to be welcomed with her and boosted by them early on. I couldn't see myself, wanting to exist where they didn't have happiness like the same she always delivers by just doing so many soft-things. Not to mention her writing... She's a whole world to throw yourself gazes

under. @zhauric - It doesn't go far either without the same breath of Mai, I could say about Zhauric. He's someone worthy to look-up and also recognize they're passionate and inviting, hoisting up literally everything. Could easily find any of their characters comrades with my own, or jiving alongside. Not to mention last XIVWrite, they slaughtered it. So enjoyable to read them all. I like how organized their blog is too, motivated me recently to redux my entire thing. @cadrenebula - They have so many diverse characters and their entire roster is vibrant and is imbued with a massive flux of life. They are able to encapsulate so many character's voices and portray them so effectively too, I really admire that greatly. They've made me think bigger and try myself recently at actually undertaking a huge roster of characters too. I've taken many breaks, but I always am so graciously returned often with them close-by and that's so incredibly sacred. I've seen a lot of people get discouraged or quit, leave, departure, etc. But they always seem to have a bigger house then they had last I took a break and I enjoy peaking in. @silvernsteel - Her artist and gif-work are awe-aspiring, there's little unrecognizable by her photo-sets and edits. They helped me even tip-toe into uncharted with giving me the recipes to try incorporating gifs into my arsenal. Plus so delightfully pleasant to actually talk with and just chill. I want nothing less in life, than the beauty they give, to be returned to them for eternity in all their glorious air. If ever needed anything of me, they've got me. @spotofmummery - We talk about passion or friendliness or overall a person to even remotely try to be, I got to include them. Their web-series and writing, screen-work, everything they do is fantastic. And that's furthered back nearly any I've met showcase or immortalize how just genuine of stellar person they are. I wish them always the energy to create and sparks. @snow-covered-moon - They've never been anything less but absolutely a diamond to know. I enjoy their character, their almost always abundant of energy that's very rub inducing. Their WoL character stories, writing, screen-shots, everyday they open up a new pandora box of joy, there's no mistaken love behind their character and that's infectiously easy to also enjoy something when the author does too. Always healthy to be around, I never feel short of vitality when they're close-by. @letheofthelost - Always cheerful or least encapsulates with me, they're a carnival ride. Just pure epic story-telling and engaging equally as passionate, constantly writing characters, not looking for anything outside of RP or anything really just being their selves, they fade all others. I love their presence, them as a person. Enjoy any character they'll ever come and throw under me, or a change of pace. Always feels easily understandable between one another. @crow-iv - Together we're an unfiltered, unstoppable wake of pure passionate writers and art. But I would say they're far ahead of me, in every regard. Already able to portray multiple characters in a scene and do such in-depth thinking, alongside even sketch or draw right afterwards or a scene. They're so talented, huge reason I set-out on giving them a Crew of cast and actual stories to-tell when I'm actually caught up and if they interested and we both have the room, I really think if further myself, I can be better and supply more for them to draw and I want to see them soar. I want to give them all my improvements and effectiveness. @trishelle - They've such a reinforcing personality and aura around them that easily bolsters anything that dares thinking they're about to be depleted so energizing. Aesthetics, characters, all them are so lively that further compliment their own mun's great welcoming presence. Worth hundreds of smiles and stars, keep high. Wish I had more time to dedicate to learning you! But I do notice and appreciate you. @fracturedfantasia - One of my people, I like to retreat and just talk my full

head-cannons with or learn, share insightful and inquisitive thoughts about philosophies and multi-culture things. Or plotting and in-general, they're a well of information and brimming ideas, they are every making of what makes a quality friend. When you can generally be open-about-all that's a real one right there. Their characters and tarot readings, I always would implore if they're offering. Thanks for giving me any-time. You're truly a treasure. @violet-warder - Never have even came to words with them yet unfortunately but didn't mean as a mutual, I haven't admired all their screenies, writing, or the aesthetics they bring of their character. Glamours is real end-game, I like all what you've done and put together. I care strictly about what represent and give, I don't want to see them ever think anyone want's them gone, they are abundantly so talented and possess things only they can deliver. I think recently came back too, and I'm glad to share, hopefully, overtime I can build you better up. Or eventually even talk, but I'm certain you are a busy-body person too, so we're relatable. @layla-grey - I have a lot of underline issues that set me back as a flawed person, but I've never not been anything but someone who's open, it's why I always do include my f-list in anything or etc. I'm not here to present this facade, and really don't care to be an image crafted by another. No one as of recently or now, am I close with as an RP partner or friend with then this stunning masterpiece. I never let-up on story-telling or anything so I can eventually use my Crew or other Characters, to give them anytime a master entertaining day, they push me to not be short-changed. IC and OOC I would devote my full attention too cause they've never shed from me. Didn't ever matter how much silence or anything, they're always around. And don't expect anything out of me or pressure. Just accept me and I equally share that sentiment, I want you to have everything in this world has to offer. ----- This is just a fraction of people, I've paid attention, noticed or know. I've been around in this Community for many years. There's a lot of things I could say about it, more probably then anyone else. But what matters to me, is recognizing the people who are here, that work hard, build others up, support, constantly are a beam. I don't need to interact with everyone, to know when someone is generally out for good. Or they're out for bad I've learned inquisitiveness longtime ago, I had to survive and remain afloat. I just go out and be me, and along the way, I get to find people like these, who help bring out the best me. I am nothing without these people, creators, writers, artist. I'm a terrible friend, horrible person, I don't have the energy to interact NEARLY with as much as I'd like with you all, If I could clone myself, or if things were different, I would drop it all to be in your orbits more if could. But, do know I appreciate you. And even if you ever do depart from this whole community or anything, know that anything you share, or give, that stuff does matter, somewhere, someone was aspired, if nothing else, by me. ONLY you can give the worlds you see and I am thankful. Do love yourself.

[hacawijo]

Alright, If We’re Gonna Play with Az’s Bonus Chapter, Let’s PLAY with Az’s Bonus Chapter (Pt. 2)

Yeah baby, part 2 of a PAINSTAKING close read lol.

Azriel winnowed into shadows before she could say anything he uses the shadows to ESCAPE, they are a coping mechanism, appearing at the door to Rhys’s study a heartbeat later. His shadows whispered in his ear that Elain had gone upstairs. It’s interesting that the shadows specifically report on Elain’s whereabouts here and not earlier, as well as later not reporting on Gwyn.

Rhys sat at his desk, fury a moonless night across his face. He asked softly, “Are you out of your mind?”

Azriel donned the frozen mask he’d perfected while in his father’s dungeon. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Rhys’s power rippled through the room like a dark cloud. “I’m talking about you, about to kiss Elain, in the middle of a hall where anyone could see you,” he snarled. “Including her mate.” It is not out of line for Rhys to acknowledge that this was stupid. If for no other reason than that it would hurt Lucien if he saw/felt them.

Azriel stiffened. Let his cold rage rise to the surface, the rage he only ever let Rhysand see, because he knew his brother could match it. Which is the mirror to something that Rhys notes in ACOFAS, that they are similar in their darkness. Because Rhys is really the only person Azriel can be himself with, completely, I think it’s important to acknowledge that this is unprecedented ground for them and specifically for Azriel. This is the first time Azriel can actually voice ANY of these thoughts out loud, and only because Rhys saw them, he did not bring this concern to Rhys himself. “What if the Cauldron was wrong?”

Rhysand blinked. “What of Mor, Az?” Also very not out of line thing to ask. Feyre is the only person Mor has really told about her sexuality, and so to Rhys and co. AND Azriel, nothing about this situation has changed in the past 500 years. The fact that Azriel is able to get over Mor, without that confirmation of her sexuality, because of Elain, is significant I think.

Azriel ignored the question. Hmm yeah, but he can’t keep ignoring this question forever, and that’s another reason he and Elain did NOT kiss in this chapter. He and his family and Mor all need closure regarding their relationship. “The Cauldron chose three sisters. Oh boy, I have a lot to say about the number three later on! Tell me how it’s possible that my two brothers are with two of those sisters, yet the third was given to another.” He had never before dared speak the words out loud. NEVER BEFORE DARED TO SPEAK THE WORDS OUT LOUD. This is the first time he’s even verbalizing these thoughts - of COURSE he doesn’t know how to navigate this conversation. This is raw emotion being spewed out right now, enhanced by the unresolved tension from his interaction with Elain.

Rhys’s face drained of color. “You believe you deserve to be her mate?” So, he says that his two brothers ARE WITH two of those sisters, which is a way to acknowledge the fact that both people in each pair accepted the bond and that it was a mutually built connection. Then he says “the third was given to another” which is actually really different. He’s saying that Elain was given to Lucien by the Cauldron, suddenly one member of that bond is not an active participant - and this is mostly true! Elain has ignored Lucien diligently, and she hinted about her lack of feelings for him when she asked Feyre why he should be entitled to her affections just because of the cauldron and whatever amends he has made. I don’t like Azriel saying that Elain is something to be given as opposed to a person to be connected to, but I’m not sure exactly what it means that he did that. ANYWAY, Rhys really does supply the word deserve, and we have evidence from earlier in this chapter that essentially proves that Azriel does not believe he deserves Elain, anyway. He is having an argument with Rhys, yes, but it almost feels like he’s arguing with himself.

Azriel scowled. “I think Lucien will never be good enough for her, and she has no interest in him anyway.” (THE ONLY TIME ELAIN’S ACTUAL FEELINGS, ACTIONS ARE CONSIDERED IN THIS DISCUSSION BTW) Also, not that he doesn’t answer Rhys’s question. For Azriel, this isn’t necessarily about what HE deserves in this moment, it’s about what Elain wants. Almost certainly, Azriel DOESN’T believe that he deserves Elain, but he sees the injustice of her being forced to accept a bond with someone for political or spiritual/societal reasons. So while to Rhys it may seem like Azriel is is putting Lucien’s claim down in order to boost his own, I actually think Azriel is trying to distinguish a different issue - Elain’s agency. This same thing happened with Mor and Eris. ABSOLUTELY THIS IS NOT ALL LIKE THAT SITUATION BECAUSE LUCIEN IS NOT ERIS!!! I am not trying to compare their behavior. BUT, Azriel would have dueled Eris for Mor’s agency regardless of whether or not she chose to be with him.

“So you’ll what?” Rhys’s voice was pure ice. “Seduce her away from him?” Rhys, I think, misinterpreting Azriel and it’s mostly not Rhys’s fault. Azriel doesn’t communicate well and is not currently communicating well. That being said, I wish he would give Azriel more benefit of the doubt.

Azriel said nothing. He hadn’t got that far with his planning, certainly not beyond the fantasies he pleasured himself to. HE HADN’T PLANNED ANYTHING, this whole conversation is just like a raw nerve.

Rhys growled, “Allow me to make one thing very clear. You are to stay away from her.” Well come on, now, Rhys, what if she doesn’t want to stay away from him? BE A FEMINIST RHYS, just add, “unless she wants to see you”!

ALSO, DID RHYS TELL FEYRE ABOUT THIS? MY MONEY IS ON NO, AND IF RHYS DIDN’T TELL HER ITS BECAUSE HE KNOWS HE’S NOT WHOLLY DOING THE RIGHT THING BY ELAIN.

“You can’t order me to do that.”

“Oh, I can, and I will. If Lucien finds out you’re pursuing her, he has every right to defend their bond as he sees fit. Including invoking the Blood Duel.” Another really big sign that this is going to play out Elriel style is the mentioning of the Blood Duel. Chekhov’s gun eh?

“That’s an Autumn Court tradition.” The battle to the death was so brutal that it was only enacted in rare cases. Despite being an outsider, Azriel had wanted to to invoke it when he’d found Mor all those years ago. Had been ready to challenge both Beron and Eris to Blood Duels and kill them both. Yes see? He would have done this regardless of Mor’s feelings toward him. Only Mor’s right to claim their heads in vengeance had kept him from doing so.

“Lucien, as Beron’s son, has the right to demand it of you.” But hey fun fact Rhys knows that Lucien is almost CERTAINLY not Beron’s son. Interesting to consider in context.

“I’ll defeat him with little effort.” Pure arrogance laced every word, but it was true. Again, Azriel is dodging Rhys’s points and is honestly being pretty immature right now, but he hasn’t actually said ANYTHING about an intention to pursue Elain with any of this. Rhys has filled in the blanks, and Azriel has responded to smaller aspects of Rhys’s macro-points with which he finds fault. I think this is also because he knows Rhys is right about a lot of the realities of the situation, but he is in the mood to be contrary right now, so he’s fighting back where he can stomach it.

“I know.” Rhys’s eyes flickered. “And your doing so will rip apart any fragile peace and alliances we have, not only with the Autumn Court, but Also with the Spring Court and Jurian and Vassa.” Rhys bared his teeth. Rhys’s motivations are based entirely on things that have nothing to do with Elain’s feelings, which is sad. But, they’re not insignificant considerations. Though come on dude you did pretty much enable Hybern’s arrival to Prythian by alienating The Spring Court with Feyre’s escape.“So you will leave Elain alone. YES, ALONE, because Elain probably is PRETTY FREAKIN LONELY If you need to fuck someone, go to a pleasure hall and pay for it, but stay away from her.” Low. Blow.

Azriel snarled softly.

“Snarl all you want.” Rhys leaned back in his chair. “But if I see you panting after her again, I’ll make you regret it.” I do think this is a really ungenerous description of what was happening downstairs with Elain. Their interaction was careful and consensual, we have painstaking detail to prove that, and it was far from panting/animalistic in action.

Rhys had rarely threatened punishment or pulled rank. It stunned Azriel enough that it knocked him from his rage. This is another person taking ANOTHER choice away from Elain. I think she may find out about Rhys doing this and I personally think she’s gonna be rightfully pissed.

Rhys jerked his chin toward the door. “Get out.”

Azriel tucked in his wings and left without another word, stalking through the house and onto the front lawn to sit in the frigid starlight. To let the frost in his veins match the air around him.

Until he felt nothing. Was again nothing at all. With Elain, he is SOMETHING. Because he feels things.

Then he flew to the House of Wind, knowing that if he slept in the riverside manor, he’d do something he regretted. He’d been so vigilant about keeping away from Elain as much as possible, Further evidence that Azriel never intended to fight Lucien or make a stink over Elain and had stayed up here to avoid her, and tonight... tonight had proved he’d been right to do so.

He aimed for the training pit, giving in to the need to work off the temptation, the rage and frustration and writhing need.

He found it occupied. His shadows had not warned him. I am not sure what it means that his shadows didn’t warn him. It could mean that Gwyn is protected from his shadows/immune to them. It could mean that his shadows wanted him to go see Gwyn - either out of a desire for Azriel to find some peace with her or out of curiosity as to who/what she is?

It was too late to bank without appearing like he was running. Azriel landed in the ring a few feet from where Gwyn practiced in the chill night, her sword glimmering like ice in the moonlight.

She stopped mid-slice, whirling to face him. “I’m sorry. I knew you all were going to the river house, so I didn’t think anyone would mind if I came up here and—“

“It’s fine. I came here to retrieve something I forgot.” The lie was smooth and cool, as he knew his face was. His shadows peered over his wings at her. They are… wary of her? They’re shy around her?

The young priestess smiled — and Azriel thought it might have been directed at his curious shadows. But she just hooked her coppery-brown hair behind an arched ear. “I was trying to cut the ribbon.” She pointed with her sword at the white ribbon, which seemed to glow silver. Some interesting language here and above (glimmering, glow etc.) to do with light, and again a juxtaposition between light and dark. But not a golden light, a colder/silver light.

“Aren’t you cold?” His breath clouded in front of him.

Gwyn shrugged. “Once you get moving, you stop noticing it.”

He nodded, silence falling. For a heartbeat, their gazes met. Gaze is definitely a romantically charged word, this is one of the tiny details that makes me unsure about the future nature of their relationship. He blocked out the bloody memory that flashed, so at odds with the Gwyn he saw before him now. I definitely do not think they are mates. I’m not closing the door on them being romantically involved, I don’t have enough evidence to do that, but I really think that if they were mates, Azriel would have known when he saw her at Sangravah.

Her head ducked, as if remembering it too. That he’d been the one who’d found her that day at Sangravah. Shades of Cassian’s reactions to Emerie’s wings having been clipped, in ACOFAS. “Happy Solstice,” she said, as much a dismissal as it was a holiday blessing.

He snorted. “Are you kicking me out?”

Gwyn’s teal eyes I have a lot to say about these teal eyes :) flashed with alarm. “No! I mean, I don’t mind sharing the ring. I just... I know you like to be alone.” Her mouth quirked to the side, crinkling the freckles on her nose. “Is that why you came up here?” I’ll talk more about this later, but there are a few small moments in the book where it seems like Gwyn might have a crush on Azriel, or some kind of special awareness/interest where he is concerned. I have seen almost no evidence that Az returns those potential feelings, except PERHAPS for the moment where he hears her screech and pays attention. But I think anyone would pay attention if someone screeched? Also he watches reverently as she cuts the ribbon, but that also feels like it would happen regardless of any romantic feelings he might have. But I don’t know for sure!

Sort of. “I forgot something.”

“At two in the morning?”

Pure amusement glittered in her stare. Better than the pain and grief he’d spied a moment before. So he offered her a crooked smile. He cares that she not be feeling pain and grief, as he does with anyone he deems good, and that is part of why he offers her the smile, as he clearly says right here. “I can’t sleep without my favorite dagger.”

“A comfort to every growing child.”

Azriel’s lips twitched. I think her irreverence matches his sense of humor quite well. He refrained from mentioning that he did indeed sleep with a dagger. Many daggers. Including one under his pillow.

“How was the party?” Her breath curled in front of her mouth, and one of his shadows darted out to dance with it before twirling back to him. Like it heard some silent music. This shadow is acting totally independent of him. She’s asking a simple question of Azriel at the moment, and he CAN’T hear the music he believes that shadow might be dancing to. Lightsinger evidence, I’d say.

“Fine,” he said, and realized a heartbeat later that it wasn’t a socially acceptable answer. “It was nice.” LOL I will say here that Azriel has to make a lot of conscious effort in this interaction. He makes himself respond in a specific way, which is not language that was used to describe his interactions with Elain earlier in the chapter. This could totally just be because he doesn’t know Gwyn that well, and certainly that’s a big part of it, but I think there’s something to be said for the fact that he is still filtering himself here with Gwyn in the quiet.

Not much better. So he asked, “Did you can the priestesses have a celebration?”

“Yes, though the service was the main highlight.”

“I see.” LOL

She angled her head, hair shining like molten metal. More glowing-type stuff “Do you sing?” I love Gwyn.

He blinked. It wasn’t everyday that people took him by surprise, but... which is great! Elain surprises him with the headache medicine in ACOFAS, Feyre surprises him with her intuition and tenderness throughout. I think this indicates that they will have a significant relationship regardless of its exact nature. “Why do you ask?”

“They call you shadowsinger. Is it because you sing?”

“I am a shadowsinger— it’s not a title that someone just made up.” It’s super-duper interesting that they actually discuss the fact that he’s a shadowsinger. When Feyre meets Azriel, she is curious, but specifically doesn’t ask follow-up questions or for expansion on the ability. Why specifically remind us here that Azriel is a shadowsinger and that Gwyn sings? If not to foreshadow something related to the ability and Gwyn?

She shrugged again, irreverently. Az narrowed his eyes, studying her. “Do you though?” She pressed. “Sing?”

Azriel couldn’t help his soft chuckle. “Yes.” I love Gwyn. She is the reason I now realize a lot of what I’ve been doing in my life is irreverence :P

She opened her mouth to ask more, but he didn’t feel like explaining. Or demonstrating, since that was surely what she’d ask next. So Az jerked his chin to the sword dangling from her hand. “Try cutting the ribbon again.” I love this so much. Maybe it is romantic, but I think that’s debatable. What’s not debatable is that it’s completely charming.

“What— with you watching?” It’s actually pretty funny that in order to avoid giving a demonstration of something that makes him vulnerable and puts Gwyn in the role of expert he flips it and makes her demonstrate vulnerability while he is the expert. Gwyn might be quite a bit braver than Azriel in some ways.

He nodded.

She considered, and he wondered if she’d say no, but Gwyn blew out a breath, steadied her feet and balance, and sliced. A beautiful, precise blow, but it didn’t sever the ribbon. SEE? Brave. I love Gwyn.

“Again,” he ordered, rubbing his hands against the cold, grateful for its bracing bite and the distraction of this impromptu lesson. Distraction is a notable word here. Azriel’s thoughts don’t really ever stray from Elain and his turmoil throughout this interaction, that’s what the word distraction tells us.

Gwyn sliced again, but the ribbon remained unyielding.

“You’re turning the blade a fraction as it comes parallel to the ground,” Azriel explained, drawing his Illyrian blade from down his back. “Watch.” He slowly demonstrated, rotating his wrist where she did. “You see how you open up right here?” He corrected his position. “Keep your wrist like that. The blade is an extension of your arm.”

Gwyn tried the movement as slowly as he had, and he watched her self-correct, fighting against the urge to open up her wrist and rotate the blade. She did it three times before she stopped falling into the bad habit. “I blame Cassian for this. He’s too busy making eyes at Nesta to notice such mistakes these days.”

Azriel laughed. “I’ll give you that.” I sense a lot of compatibility, just, again, not sure it’s romantic.

Gwyn smiled broadly. “Thank you.”

Azriel dipped his head in a sketch of a bow, something restless settling in him. Even his shadows had calmed. As if content to lounge on his shoulders and watch. This is another line that I think offers the most evidence for something significant between Gwyn and Azriel. It’s lovely that she has helped to settle something restless in him with the distraction - and I think it’s important to note that it might not have done the same thing had he encountered Emerie or another trainee on the roof. At the same time, maybe it would have. Also love that his shadows like to watch Gwyn. Lightsinger/Shadowsinger evidence! This all being said, I can’t really think of an SJM romance that is built around a comfort zone. I can think of many friendships that operate that way, but not so much with the romances. There’s usually nervousness and flutters and passion and… restlessness, somewhere in there.

But— sleep. He needed to at least attempt to get some.

“Happy Solstice,” Azriel said before aiming for the archway into the House. “Don’t stay out too much longer. You’ll freeze.”

Gwyn nodded her farewell, again facing the ribbon. A warrior sizing up an opponent, all traces of that charming irreverence gone. I love Gwyn.

Azriel entered the warmth of the stairwell, and as he descended, he could have sworn a faint, beautiful singing followed him. Could have sworn his shadows sang in answer. This feels VERY much like Lightsinger/Shadowsinger evidence. His shadows, as this chapter has demonstrated time and again, operate independently of him, and they react to Gwyn’s song. I also think it’s possible that Gwyn is sort of always singing, even when she’s not. Like she glows with song on some level, and that’s what his shadows are reacting to - because I don’t think she’d necessarily actually sing while attempting to cut the ribbon.

He slept as well as could be expected which means pretty much not at all y’all — he makes it clear he never expects to sleep well, but when Azriel returned to the River House to gather his presents before dawn, he found Elain’s necklace amid the pile. He pocketed it. Spent the rest of his day, even the blasted snowball fight, with every intention of returning it to the shop in the Palace of Thread and Jewels. How did the necklace get there??? Did Elain really put it there??? Seems like even more evidence that he assumes too much about her understanding of his feelings. Also, though, it seems really rude/OOC for Elain to do that. She gave up very quickly after he gave her a really thoughtful gift. SOMETHING’S FISHY.

But when he returned from the cabin in the mountains, he didn’t go to the market square.

Instead, he found himself at the library beneath the House of Wind, standing before Clotho as the clock chimed seven in the evening. Important to remember that this is one of the longest nights of the year, which means dusk is coming on later than it was when Nesta attended the evening service weeks/months prior- a service that started almost exactly when seven bells rang the time. It is very well possible that Azriel finds himself at the library as the evening service is happening. The one in which Gwyn sings. If she does have some kind of Lightsinger power in her, it may be that he was lured by that power instead of returning the necklace. Even if they always start at 7, he still arrives exactly at 7. The only point against this surmising that I’ve done is that Clotho led the service which Nesta attended, and yet she is here to greet Azriel. Either I’m wrong and the service is not happening at or around this time, OR the service can take place without Clotho occasionally, and this served the interest of the plot so that Az could speak with someone.

He slid the small box across her desk. “If you see Gwyn, would you give this to her?”

Clotho angled her hooded head, and her enchanted pen wrote on a piece of paper. A Solstice gift from you?

Azriel shrugged. “Don’t tell her it came from me.” Yes, it really doesn’t seem super romantic to re-gift a necklace to Gwyn. It just feels sour, if this is the start of a romance between them.

Why?

“Does she need to know? Just tell her it was a gift from Rhys.”

That would be a lie.

He avoided the urge to cross his arms, not wanting to look intimidating. He blocked out the memory that flashed— of his mother cringing before his father, the male standing with crossed arms in such a way that made his displeasure known before he opened his hateful mouth. This feels very important. We know VERY LITTLE about Azriel’s story, his past, and his family, and so I want to point out ANY and EVERY nugget we get!

“Look I...” Az searched for the words, his voice becoming quiet. “If there’s another priestess here who might appreciate it, give it to them. But I’m not taking that necklace with me when I leave.” I’m not exactly sure what it means that Azriel says this. It could be that he doesn’t want to make a thing of his potential feelings for Gwyn and so tries to deflect with this statement, both to convince Clotho and himself that it’s not about Gwyn. It could also mean that Azriel needed to be rid of the necklace, and wasn’t in the mood to fight with Clotho over an ultimately secondary (to getting rid of the necklace) impulse to give it to someone who provided him comfort and companionship at a time when he needed it.

He waited for Clotho’s pen to finish writing. Your eyes are sad, Shadowsinger.

He offered her a grim smile. “I lost the snowball fight today.” HE LOST THE FIRST SNOWBALL FIGHT IN 200 YEARS! And I’m pretty sure it wasn’t because Gwyn made him feel better the previous night. I think he lost because he is in anguish over the situation with Elain. Again, I understand that anguish shouldn’t necessarily be a romantic thing, but in SJM’s writing it often is. This is a romance series, angst is a thing, stakes are a thing. It’s not necessarily the most healthy, but it’s also not all-the-way unhealthy. He just feels strongly about Elain and there are a lot of obstacles between him and finding a way to resolve those feelings for good or bad.

I am a counselor for folks who have and are dealt/dealing with sexual, gender-based, and interpersonal violence, and if you want me to do an analysis of all of the relationships in SJM’s writing that aren’t wholly healthy, there won’t be any left over. Except for maybe Sartaq and Nesryn. they really do have their shit together. I suspend a fair amount of my disbelief and professional knowledge in reading these books because I love them and they are fictional :) Also, relationships are complicated. It’s pretty rare for me to work with a client that has a cut-and-dry, black-and-white story.

Now, in my PERSONAL NOT PROFESSIONAL experience, shit is messy, and messiness, even in real life, doesn’t always mean something isn’t worth the strife. Though absolutely abuse and assault are a whole other thing. I think it’s really good to think critically about relationship dynamics in fiction, because it’s a safe place to do great learning and reflection. I also think it’s important to consider that the rules of our reality are not necessarily the rules of the reality being written by an author. Maybe you personally find Azriel’s feelings toward Elain (as they have been expressed so far) are beyond redemption, and are unhealthy to a point where the relationship cannot be salvaged. But that is not realistically a reason that the relationship in question won’t happen. Pretty much any negative/toxic assertions that can be leveled against Elriel based on the VERY SMALL amount of first-person perspective we have in the relationship could be leveled against at least a few of SJM’s other endgame couples. Totally happy to get into this more and provide those examples :)

Clotho was smart enough to see through his deflection. She wrote, I’ll give it to Gwyneth. Tell her a friend left it for her.

He wouldn’t go so far as to call Gwyn a friend, but... “Fine. Thank you.” Not sure what this means. Maybe just that it takes Az a while to open up to people and call them friends.

Clotho’s pen moved once more. She deserves something as beautiful as this. I thank you for the joy it shall bring her.

Something sparked in Azriel’s chest, but he only nodded his thanks and left. He could picture it, though, as he ascended the stairs back to the House proper. How Gwyn’s teal eyes might light upon seeing the necklace. For whatever reason... he could see it. And here we have the most romantic evidence for Az and Gwyn as a couple. Maybe he is falling for her and that’s why he can picture her smile. I really don’t know. I think it could also be that he is happy to be able to make her happy, in recognition of the comfort she gave him the previous evening. Maybe he can picture her because of her potential lightsinger status. Thoughts?

But Azriel tucked away the thought, consciously erasing the slight smile it brought to his face. Buried the image down deep, where it glowed quietly. The image glowing, again, lightsinger-supporting language.

A thing of secret, lovely beauty. So now he is referring to Gwyn’s smile here. This is interesting, because Gwyn’s smile wouldn’t necessarily be a secret, but perhaps it is if you think of her as being hidden in the library, or that he’ll know about her smile and her receiving the necklace even though she won’t know that he’s the one who gave it to her. Or maybe he’s drop dead in love with her! Another thing that I don’t think is true given his stony attitude post-Solstice (when Gwyn is very much around) and the fact that he doesn’t seem to react viscerally to Gwyn’s kidnapping until Cassian points out that bad things could be happening to both her AND Emerie, as well as Nesta. He knows Gwyn just as well, if not better at this point, as he knew Elain when he reacted to HER kidnapping in ACOWAR. He was very riled, he was the one who noticed she was gone, he vowed almost immediately to go get her, knowing it might mean certain death (to be fair, he seems to have a bit of a death wish, BUT he’s still a pragmatist and doesn’t try to WASTE his life on things - either they’re essential to the court and/or Prythian’s wellbeing or essential to someone for whom he cares deeply.)

[rhysismydaddy]

Inn Scene for Elriel

What would Elriel do if it was them on that one bed at the inn (where Feyre said she wanted 'fun') instead of Feysand? Would it be smut? Or sweet fluff? Can you please write this? I don't mind if it is steamy or fluffy! Thanks!!

Might I raise you and say both? HA. Wrote it this way because I came back to edit :)

____________________________________________

There’s nothing, absolutely no sign whatsoever, that indicates the man next to me is awake, but I know he is. 

His breathing is even and deep, but it’s like I can sense his attention on me. Even though his eyes are closed. His entire being seems tuned into mine, and it puts me on edge, even as I pretend to sleep. 

Honestly, I don’t think either one of us has relaxed ever since the owner of this horrible little inn told us there was only one room available. With one very small bed. 

It apparently wasn’t ideal, but we don’t have any other option. We’re making our way back to Velaris from a tense trip to the Illyrian camp Azriel had grown up in, and there’s nothing around for at least another days time. 

Cold and cranky, we’d climbed the stairs silently and changed into dry clothes, then gotten into bed and begun to dutifully ignore each other. 

At least, I am. 

He very well could be just trying to go to sleep. 

That’s the problem with Azriel, I’ve discovered. He never shows any reaction. I’m pretty sure I could stand in front of him and strip every last piece of clothing off and he wouldn’t blink an eye. Hell, he’d probably just give me that long-suffering sigh and ask what I was doing.

No reaction. Ever.

It makes being attracted to him extremely irritating. 

Flopping onto my side dramatically, I poke him in the shoulder and announce, “I can’t sleep.”

“That’s because you’re not trying.”

“Oh, come on. Wake up and talk to me.” He of course doesn’t, so I continue my list of demands. “Tell me about Hybern. Or your favorite thing to do. Or-”

“Go to sleep.”

I brood for a few minutes over his tone. Apparently he’s dead set on ignoring me tonight. 

Except I’m tired of being ignored. 

I’m ignored every single day of my life, and I think I’ve had enough of it. 

I sigh heavily and decide to test out my “no-reaction” theory. “Well, if you don’t want to talk, we could always just have sex.”

His eyes fly open so fast I laugh. “What?”

Is that interest in his voice, or incredulity? Or maybe both?

Trying to be casual, I say, “You heard me perfectly well, Azriel.”

“Yes, but I don’t know why you’d say something like that-”

“Because I’d like to have sex with you,” I declare, finding that now that I’ve actually said the words, I’m not embarrassed in the slightest. He makes a strange, choking sound that lets me know I’ve really surprised him, and I laugh again. “You know, for someone 500 years old, you’re pretty stupid.”

Once he’s recovered enough to speak, he asks, “Why in the world would you want to have sex with me?”

He says it like he honestly doesn’t know. Like he thinks he doesn’t deserve me or something. 

Bracing myself up on one arm, I look down at him. His hair’s an inky spill on the pillow, and it looks so soft I have trouble not reaching and running my fingers through it. “Because you’re loyal and noble and attractive. Because you’re the only one who treats me like a person, not some doll that needs to be protected. Because you see me as who I really am.”

“And who are you, Elain?”

That’s a good question. 

“I’m just a woman. One who wants you, and has since the moment we met.” He doesn’t look entirely convinced. “I don’t see why this has to be complicated. It wouldn’t be for anyone else.”

“Because you’re not just anyone, Elain.” His eyes narrow, the spy in him determined to get all the information possible out of me. “Is that all you want from me then? Just sex?”

I ask myself the same question, but the answer is that I don’t really know. All I know is that for the first time in twenty years, I’m attracted to someone and want to do something about it. 

For the first time, I want to stop caring and just live. 

I’ve never been with a man; the closest I ever came was when Grayson kissed me after proposing. It was quick and clean, and I didn’t feel half as excited as I do when when I even look at Azriel.

So I have to wonder... what would it be like to kiss Azriel? To feel his body against mine, to see a smile on his face and know it’s from something I’ve done?

“I want... fun.” He raises a dark eyebrow, but I see the flare in his eyes. “I’ve never... I’ve never wanted anyone, but I want you, and I know you want me to.”

For a moment, he just lays there, looking up at me. My confidence starts to waver, just enough for me to ask shakily, “Am I wrong?”

Have I really misread a dozen lingering glances and sly smiles? Or have I been reading into something nonexistent? Or-

He’s on me in an instant, lips meeting mine and shutting the uncertainty off easily. It’s a soft and sweet and simple kiss, similar to the one Grayson gave me, but unlike my first kiss, my entire body comes alive. 

“No, Elain. You’re not wrong.” Azriel pulls back, hazel eyes searching my face, and gives me a very male look. “How much fun, exactly, are you trying to have?”

My lips are pulled into a smile as I put them back against his, and his hands slip into my hair, fingers threading through it carefully. Mine find his shoulders to push him on his back, but he sits up instantly, a serous look on his face. “Wings.”

That’s all the explanation I get before his arms are around my waist, pulling me onto his lap. I shiver from the chill and lack of blankets around me, and his hands slide over my arms, then his wings are around us, creating a dark, warm cocoon. 

A calloused hand guides my leg around his waist, aligning our hips, and I can’t hardly breathe at the rush of heat that shoots through me. 

He hears my harsh intake of breath and pulls back to look at me. 

Moving so slowly I squirm, his hands slip under the hem of my sweater, palms flat against my back. He watches my face as they move up, and eyes locked onto mine even as it comes off. 

Then they drop to track the movement of his fingertips tracing over my skin and coming to the three faint freckles just below my collarbone. He smiles as he spots them, then leans in to press his mouth against my skin. 

“So beautiful,” he murmurs, the rough timber of his voice rattling through me. 

I run my hands through his hair and he tilts his head back to look me in the eyes again. I get a little lost in him, in the so-obvious reaction he isn’t bothering to hide anymore. “Say stop, and I will. No questions, no judgement. Okay?”

“I won’t.”

His lips twitch, but he insists, “Say okay anyway.”

“Okay,” I whisper back, barely getting the words out before his mouth is back on mine. 

His chin nudges mine to the side, then his lips are working their way down the column of my throat. A gasp escapes me as he sucks on the place my neck meets my shoulder, and his lips curve into a smile. 

But he doesn’t stop.

He moves down to my chest, hands coming up to guide my breasts towards his mouth. Another gasp, then a shocked moan, slips out of me as his tongue swirls around the peak of one. 

Everything I thought I knew goes out the window as he kisses his way to the other, but I don’t care enough to be bothered by my lack of experience. 

My hips seem to move on their own accord, churning sloppily against his, and his hands drop to guide them.  

His lips meet mine again, tongue teasing mine, and I know right now how much trouble I’m in. I’m practically trembling with need, and all he’s done is kiss me. 

But, gods above, I don’t want to stop. I don’t ever want to stop. 

I release his name in a a sigh as his hand sneaks around my waist to toy with the hem of my leggings, my entire focus seeming to narrow to that spot. 

Azriel pulls back again right as his fingers slip between the fabric and brush against my skin. I try to kiss him again, but he evades and grins. “I want to watch.”

Oh, gods. 

His fingertips barely graze my center, giving me the lightest bit of contact, but my hips jerk anyway. He does it again, shifting slightly so he can see better, and the knowledge that he’s watching himself touch me is almost too much. 

Another soft moan escapes me as his thumb makes a small circle, and the caramel in his eyes seems to go molten. “Feel good?”

I nod immediately, and his grin grows. 

He slowly pushes a finger inside me, that thumb continuing to draw circles to keep me relaxed. He starts moving, somehow providing exactly the right amount of pressure to make me breathless.

And I think I’ve never felt so alive.

He leans to press a soft kiss to the column of my throat, whispering, “Are you having fun, Elain?”

A tremor works its way through me, and I wrap my arms around his neck to pull him closer. “Almost.”

My hips are moving faster now, and he moves his fingers in rhythm, murmuring something I can’t quite hear. Soon I’m clutching his shoulders and feeling a strange sort of tension settle in my legs. 

“Azriel.” He curls his finger, and my thighs squeeze his waist. “Azriel.”

“Come on, baby,” he encourages, pushing into me a little harder. “Come for me.”

“Don’t tell me what to do,” I say back, even though I listen to him anyway. My legs go tight around him, my back arches into his chest, and I release a loud groan I’ll probably be embarrassed about tomorrow. 

But right now, I don’t care, because it feels like I have fucking lightening in my veins, and I’ve never felt anything so intense.

When I open my eyes, I see him watching me, and the realization that he saw all that brings a blush to my cheeks. “Wow.”

He grins. “Are you tired yet?”

I answer him by falling bac and grabbing the front of his shirt to bring him with me. Even though he could easily stop me, he gives in, landing on top of me softly and pressing me down into the lumpy mattress. His wings fall around us protectively, blanketing us in darkness. 

Blindly, I reach a hand toward them, hearing his sharp intake of breath as my finger meets down the sinewy material. 

“Elain.”

I ignore the pained way he says my name and do it again, then gasp as my hands are suddenly pinned above my head, his grip definitely firm but not painful.

For a minute, I’d forgotten who exactly I was in bed with. I’d forgotten that Azriel is nothing like any of the men I’ve met before. He’s old and powerful and... just more.  

It’s addictive.

His weight is making my mind spin, our chests roughly colliding with every gasping breath I manage to take. 

“Elain, you have to stop that,” he admonishes, pressing his hips to mine roughly so I can feel the affect of my teasing. “I’m not... I can’t-.”

“That’s a lie.”

He gives me a flat look, and my lips twitch. But an edge of seriousness grows into his gaze as he tells me, “I’m not taking your virginity in shithole. You deserve better.”

“I swear that between the two of us, you’re the only one who cares about that.”

He could take me in the middle of a snowstorm and I wouldn’t even care.

“I know, but... I don’t want you to regret me. I’ve seen what something like that does to a female, and I refuse to give you anything less than you deserve.” 

The words his a deep cord in me, and the sadness in his fierce eyes makes my chest hurt. “I could never regret you, Azriel. But I understand.”

He nods once, the gesture simple, and suddenly leans back up to lift me and put me back in my original spot on the bed. Curling behind me, Azriel wraps his arms around my waist and pulls me tight to his chest. “Good. Now go to sleep.”

I’m not quite ready. “I don’t know if I can, with you stabbing me with your-”

“Sleep, Elain.”

Still not ready. “What happens when we go back to the House of Wind? Will that be a fancy and deserving enough of a place for you to deflower me?”

He chuckles, arms going tighter around me, and mumbles against my neck, “We’ll see.”

_________________________________________________

TAGS: @perseusannabeth @cursebreaker29 @a-bit-of-a-cactus @elriel4life @girl-who-reads-the-books @shinya-hiiragi @aelinfeyreeleven945tbln @ireallyshouldsleeprn @highqueenofelfhame @claralady @tswaney17 @rowanisahunk @superspiritfestival @thegoddessofyou @jlinez @studyliketate @over300books @justgiu12 @maastrash @aesthetics-11 @bamchickawowow @b00kworm @sleeping-and-books @musicmaam @hizqueen4life @maybekindasortaace

[writing-in-april]

Shining Bright Above You

Spencer Reid x Male Reader

Summary: Spencer finally gets to go out with his boyfriend after getting out of prison and gets to see the light despite the overwhelming darkness.

A/N: Hey guys! This is my twenty-first fic for my 30 fics in 30 days for April. This ones one of my favorites I’ve ever written and is based on this request and is also inspired by some stuff @ontheoddoccasioniwritestuff sent to me for inspiration. I know x male reader fics don’t do good in fandom (which is a crying shame) but there’s still a large portion of people it applies to that read fanfic so please share it around so it might reach them!! Inclusivity in fanfic is important and I’ve heard multiple people get very discouraged they don’t see more fics that represent them- so please help bring more inclusivity in fandom!!! My ask box is open for nice anons only- here- if I see a shred of homophobia I will curb stomp you (I will not have a debate about it in my inbox) BUT please don’t be afraid to point out if I made a mistake in terms of the gender of the reader (this is not an open invitation to critique the rest of the fic)Thanks for reading and hope y’all enjoy!

Warnings: Mentions of homophobia & the prison arc & subtle hints at a soulmate au (which is funny I wrote it like that because I don’t read soulmate fics lol)- otherwise its super fluffy 🥰

Main Masterlist Word Count: 1.6k

Time was just a construct created by humans to understand how we moved forward in the universe, and even though I was exaggerating it had felt like a million years since I had been out with Spencer. Prison had already made it hard to see him, with all the pat downs and checks only to still be separated by a plexiglass wall. On top of that, Spencer had only let me visit once, until he saw eyes leering at me with some uttering slurs underneath their breath.

It wasn’t until he was freed that I could see him again, and in the flesh as well. I remember our first hug after he had been released, both of us practically soaking our clothes with tears that didn’t seem to stop. For Spencer, it had even taken along time to convince him that I was real, and that I was safe- there would be no homophobic prisoners coming to attack us in the night.

Spencer didn’t like the night, one of his worst fears was the darkness and night was when the shadowy parts of his mind came out to play. Oftentimes I’d find him in other parts of the apartment at night, with all the lights on, the bed was no longer a place of comfort. One night I had pulled him to the couch, lights all flicked on and a nature documentary playing softly. When I had brought his head into my lap to stroke his fluffy locks that were still beautiful even though they were still damaged from the prison soap, he had fallen asleep a lot easier. Since then the couch has become our bed. Though I did not mind because he kicked and cried less in the night, and even when he did, it was easier to hold him.

The night was a scary place for Spencer, except when the stars shone bright. That’s why when I had remembered one of our favorite past dates, at the observatory, I immediately called in a favor. We had the place to ourselves tonight, sure it cost me more money than I’d ever spent before on a date. It had been ages, a million years it seemed like since we went out in public, so the price was worth it. It was all for Spencer, to make the night good for him again.

Though I definitely loved looking at the bright balls of gas up above I much preferred to rest my gaze on Spencer’s eyes. Spencer’s eyes often reminded me of the stars, not because of their color- but because of the slight twinkle that they got every time he was happy. The twinkle in my opinion rivaled the brightness of the stars with ease.

Normally I could listen to Spencer rambling on about facts all day, being completely entranced by his phrasing. But, his eyes had entranced me this time. I was no longer thinking about the black holes that he was rambling about, but how lucky I was. How lucky I was to see that twinkle in his eye and get to kiss him at the same time?

I could’ve been born at any point throughout space and time, to see any number of amazing things across the universe. But, I was put here standing next to Spencer. Just two specks of stardust ready to be in this world together. However insignificant life could seem in the grander scheme of things- however small we could both seem, I wouldn’t want to be next to any other speck of stardust nor be placed at any point in space and time.

“And no particles or even electromagnetic radiation such as light—can escape from it.” I caught the last part of what he said as he finished his mini rant about black holes. Thinking about light being swallowed up and being crushed into oblivion it made me think of Spencer again, it was a sad thought, though it was filled with hope.

I thought about all the darkness that had tried to consume Spencer throughout the years. Most recently prison had been the thing that tried to stomp the light out of him. It was nice to see that light that had dimmed sparkle a little brighter tonight. Even though we have been dating for a long time I felt myself filled with a small amount of happiness knowing that I was at least part of the reason the sparkle in his eye was bright tonight.

“You ok?” Spencer piped up, looking at me with concern.

“The stars are bright tonight.”

He looked a little confused at my seemingly somewhat random statement, he still looked back up at the stars. On the inside I wished he’d kept his bright glinting gaze upon me, then he confirmed my statement, “Yes, yes they are.”

“You’re still shining brighter.” Even after all this time I still had the capabilities to make Spencer blush. Every time he did so I was reminded of the stuttering boy I had met all those years ago. When he had first approached me in the library so long ago to ask me if I was finished with a book I had set down to the side, he was instantly just as endearing to me as he is now.

It had been such a different time then, it seemed almost like another lifetime. We had been through so much together, I often thought the universe might have some vendetta against us. Though logically the universe wouldn’t be so concerned with two small specks of stardust such as ourselves. Either way, whatever was truly out there in the unknown, there’s no place I’d rather be.

A piece of paper, folded carefully so the creases would be neat, was burning a hole through my slacks. It was a small gift in the grander scheme of things, a blip on anyone else’s radar. This held more meaning for us than just some novelty gift people buy.

His eyes were back on the stars, observing them with such intensity that I hadn’t even seen the astronomer Spencer had introduced me to last time we were here. Spence craved the light above him- who was I to deny him if I could give it to him?

It may have not been plucking the stars out of the sky for him to cuddle in his arms in a literal sense. I couldn’t buy all the stars in the sky, the website didn’t allow that. I could give him one though, one that was brighter than any others they had for sale.

“I-I have something for you.” I stuttered, which had Spencer looking at me with suspicion; he was the stutterer when nervous, not normally me.

Spencer’s eyes were on me now, not the stars, though he looked at me with the same reverence as he did when gazing up at the Milky Way. The same way I always did.

My hands were shaky when I pulled out the folded paper, carefully undoing the creases to present him the certificate of ownership for a star. Spencer steadied them with his fingers wrapping around my wrists. They were long and spindly, just made in a certain way that made me always want to kiss the tips of them as I did so often.

He then took the paper from my hands, even though I wanted to be greedy and take the warmth from his hands that the paper was stealing. I cleared my throat before telling him what the folded paper was, still nervous over a simple sheet of paper,“It’s our star.”

Somehow his eyes gleamed ever brighter because of how the tears that were now welling up in his eyes refracted the light even more. He wiped them a little, so he could scan the paper over to read the certificate that to most people meant nothing.

“It’s so we can have a little bit more light in our life.” I chewed on my bottom lip after I finished giving him my reasoning for the gift, nervous about his reaction. His hands were shaking now, as were mine, though for different reasons.

If my brain was thinking logically I’d realize he’d love anything I have to him, he’d probably even treasure a vial of sand. “You’re all the light I need” He then pulled me into his lips by grasping at my cheeks, the paper still in his hands brushing up against them accidentally. The only people here to see the light between us was a mingling curious janitor. It didn’t matter who was watching, I only needed one person to be here, Spencer. And, every time I was in his presence I always stopped to think, there’s no place I’d rather be. There’s no one else I’d rather be attached to, no one else I want to call me their boyfriend. He’s my home and my light just as much as I am his.

There’s an old Buddhist saying that, when you meet your soulmate, remember that the act to bring you together was 500 years in the making. So always appreciate and be kind to one another. I don’t know how much I put stock in the idea of soulmates, or the universe having some illogical vendetta against us, or the possibility of a being greater than humankind. I did know however, that if there was anyone in the world that I could possibly be soulmates with, it would be Spencer Reid. I’d spend the rest of my days comforting him from the darkness, happily showing him the specks of light in between that ultimately would defeat the swirling pools of black.

Ask Me Anything

—-

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All Works: @shotarosleftpinky @oreogutz @90spumkin @kyra-morningstar @spenxerslut @boxofsparklingmuses @katexrichardson @takeyourleap-of-faith

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[nicka-nell]

Prompt Event

Request: anonymous - OMG 500 followers is so exciting!! CONGRATS!! I am so excited for your event - I hope your inbox doesn't get too out of control! 🥰 Can I request Ukai or Ushijima (you choose) + NSFW + 30, 37, 59??

Prompt Event  | Masterlist (coming soon)

Pairing: Ukai Keishin x reader Words: 2.345 Warning: NSFW, 18+ Note: All characters are grown-up!

Prompts: 30. Have you always been this beautiful? 37. What if I told you I’ve been in love with you since we were kids? 59. Shouldn’t you be with him?

Back then, you were little. You had just learned to tie your shoelaces without help, had made and eaten sand cake with your little hands. Back then, it was your father Nekomata who pulled you into a volleyball game.

To a team called Karasuno. A team where the coach was just as eager to win as your father. To your astonishment, he also had a boy at your age with him. He had always looked fiercely, his arms folded in front of his chest and always looked in the opposite direction from his father.

You can still remember that at a game, the men of the teams had warmed up, practiced their serve while you were about to close your loose shoelace. “Watch out!” Called the other coach’s boy as he stood in front of you and caught a harsh hit of the ball with his back, preventing you from getting punched in the face with a volleyball.

You remember you two used to sneak out at the games, hide out in his mom’s store, and secretly read adult magazines. You were laughing at the naked people in these, laughing and giggling every time you read the word sex. You were always reprimanded by your fathers, still that never stopped you.

But time passed, you became manager of Nekoma High School and Ukai became a setter at Karasuno. You had no time to see each other, had only met briefly at the games.

When your father also thought that Naoi, your substitute setter, is a nice guy and you should meet him, you knew that Ukai should disappear from your thoughts.

Naoi was in the same class as you, you had done a lot together and even now that you have your own job, he performs as the second coach of the Nekoma, you still meet. Just yesterday he was with you, had forgotten his jacket. You told him you’d give him his jacket back when you walked past the gym after work.

Whether it’s coincidence or fate, that you meet right in your former gym Ukai?

Unobtrusively, you sneak into the gym, go over to Naoi to poke him in the side with your index finger. He twitches with a smile before turning around and quietly thanking you for the jacket. As if it were a daily greeting to him, he gives you a kiss on the cheek before saying goodbye to you and turning back to the game.

You’re about to leave the gym when the opposing coach calls for a time-out. That voice, that voice… A voice that used to mean so much to you. Unbelievably, you turn around, to see if you really heard him.

“Ukai?” It escapes you almost silently, when you see the man from your childhood again.

As if he heard your sound, he looks at the entrance. At first he has difficulty recognizing you, but this hair, these eyes, this look, he would recognize it always. Yet you even have changed. You’ve become a real woman.

Now there’s only one question in his head. Have you always been this beautiful?

“Sensei, maybe we should replace him?” Gets him the captain’s voice out of his mind. For a moment, his gaze drifts away from yours, looking at the captain before he watches back in your direction. Except you’re not there anymore.

You know you’re supposed to meet Naoi after the game, but how can you if you just have to think about Ukai now. Almost automatically, your legs set in motion, making you get into your car to drive to Ukais shop, hoping that he will enter the store again today.

When you arrive in front of the store, you take a deep breath, wait a moment and let the chilly air calm your body down before you open the door and step in.

You are greeted by a man who introduces himself as Takinoue. Ask him if Ukai isn’t there today, when he confirms that he will come to the store again tonight. Nodding, you look around the shop as your gaze wanders to the adult magazines.

Smiling, you tell Takinoue that you would like to have one of these magazines, which he holds against you with red cheeks and watches you sit on a chair in the shop.

Time passes, the clock next to the cabinet with the cigarettes ticks and reminds you with every beat that Ukai will soon enter the store. The paper on the last two pages of the magazine squeaks between your fingers as you turn the page when the doorbells ring just a few seconds later and a familiar voice fills the room with excitement.

“Takinoue, did everything go well? I bet there wasn’t much of a clientele today, was there?” He laughs with his deep, smoky voice, but without answering him, Takinoue points at you. You’re still flipping around in that catalog, not looking up at those two men.

“Y/n?” Ukai asks wildly, can’t believe that you of all people are in his shop. Now you lift your eyes, smile at him kindly while you put the magazine out of your hand. “Takinoue…You can go now.”

Ukai’s gaze is filled with your eyes, fixed on you as if you were a shrine fulfilling his wishes. His voice is only heard softly, but still so loud that Takinoue understands to leave now.

Again you hear the bell before the door snaps into the hinge a few seconds later and Ukai comes towards you. Without a word, he sits next to you, looks at you before his gaze lands on the magazine.

He can’t resist a grin, leans back in the chair, his arms behind his back, his legs wide open. “Just like old times, huh?” He just smirks and makes you pay your full attention to him. “Like old times. But, you know what I also remember?” You ask, even though you know Ukai can’t answer that question.

Irritated, he looks at you, thinks about what you had done when you were little, but he can’t think of anything. Resolutely you get up from your chair, sit down on his lap and enjoy his suddenly so frightened face.

Grinning you move your pelvis in his direction, watch deep into his dark brown eyes before you kiss his harsh lips. Your warm tongue lies on his lips, seeking its way inside to connect with his.

With a quiet snort he opens his mouth, noticing his hands unconsciously looking for your delicate body, reaching under the thin fabric of your blouse to caress your sides. Almost a whiny sound escapes him as your lips separate from his when you stare at him with an incredibly attractive look.

“I don’t remember that.” He murmurs softly, not noticing the words that have left his mouth. “No? Maybe I should show you what else we’ve done?” You whisper to him seductively before you move your pelvis up and down in the hope of soon feeling something hard under you.

“Shouldn't you be with him? With Naoi?” He steers in, when your warm breath is already on his lips. “Huh? I’m with you right now.” You answer, and seal his lips with yours, so that you not give him the opportunity to answer.

His tongue, his saliva is bitter, you taste like he smoked another cigarette earlier. Ukai’s fingertips are rough as they wander along your sides, behind your back and digging into your flesh with a gruff.

Did he lock the door? No… Is the closed sign on the door? No… Someone could be coming in any minute. “Shit!” He curses under your kisses before he begins to caress your neck. To experience how you taste, to leave hickeys to show Naoi that you were with him. With Ukai, not with Naoi. He doesn’t care if anyone sees you now.

Your hands hastily search for the end of the coarse fabric of his sweater before you pull it off of his body with a quick movement and drop it to the ground. “Take off your blouse.” His tone is flat, husky as he looks deep into your eyes.

Nodding, you want to open the first buttons of your blouse, but you are too slow for Ukai. His hands that were still on your back before, are suddenly on top of yours, pushing your hands away when he tears open the fabric with an animalistic sound, and pulls it from your body. The buttons rattle as they fall to the floor, rolling through the store until they come to a lie.

With ease, Ukai lifts you up from the chair, kisses you before he turns you around with a jerk and presses your upper body on the table top in front of you. You hear the sound of his zipper behind you as it is opened and the coarse denim fabric glides off his legs.

With a whisper he pulls up your skirt, drills his hands into your shapely ass, only growls with clenched teeth. “Shit, you really got hot.” His rough voice sounds in your ears, and shortly afterwards you feel his warm chest lying on your back as something hard catches your attention.

“Nhhhg Ukai…” you moan and make him smile. His hand lets go of your butt, explores the area between your legs before he rubs his fingers on your wet panties. “God, what a naughty little girl you are. You’re already wet, just from our kisses, huh?” Even if you can’t see his look, you feel this mischievous radiance emanating from him.

“What if I told you I’ve been in love with you since we were kids? That I wanted to know how perfectly your sweet cunt wraps around my cock, as a teenager. Your needy moaning for my name?” He breathes into your ear as he begins to nibble on your earlobe and with his free hand pushes your panties aside to spread your walls and press his cock into you.

Almost without resistance it glides into you, wraps his dick with your essence and elicits a sugar-sweet moan out of your throat. A sound that is like music in his ears and satisfies him. “Tell me, my little girl, does my cock feel good in your sweet cunt?” He wants to know while he grabs for your hair to jerk your upper body up with his.

“So good… It feels so good, Ukai!” You snarl while you wonder why he feels so incredibly right. Unlike the men you had before. Ukais thrusts become stronger and more aggressive, causing your whole body to move.

“Oh god!” You whine again when Ukai starts to use his free hand to slide between your folds, just to start playing with your core. His fingertips rub against it, move rapidly, apply pressure and make your breath faster, so that your body tightens.

“God can’t help you right now, my little girl.” He just grins and starts to caress your neck, bite on it, and really play it safe, marking you as his.

His cock in you feels so big. Comes in places where no one has come before. Seek the way to your womb and make you understand that only he can fill you so well. You believe your vision go black, your legs automatically squeeze together as you keep pressing your pelvis against Ukai.

Awkwardly you reach for Ukai’s hair, burying your fingers in them, as if you didn’t know where to go with this desire that is about to explode. “Ah Damn, babe, you’re so hot. Just pull my hair, do what you want if you just give me your sweet moans.” His voice is barely understandable under his wet smacks on your neck, before he shoves his entire length into you with much force, making your tone completely uncontrollable. “Ah Ukai!” Your walls twitch, makes Ukai groan loudly, through this sudden tightness that literally constricts his lim.

You feel his member even better in you, every contour, every vein. Understand now also why it felt so good, because not only Ukais cock is in you, no also all piercings that adorn his cock. Everything rubs against your swollen walls. Elicit a whine that drives Ukai crazy.

“Damn babe, you’re so tight, I’m coming. Shall I pull out?” His trembling voice resounds in your scattered thoughts. “No, I want everything from you, I want to feel like I’m milking your dick, old man.”

That was exactly the answer Ukai wanted to hear, because with a few hard blows he distributes his viscous charge in you, fills you with his warm sperm before he lingers in you with a loud murmur for a moment.

“Damn, that was hot.” He breathes heavily before leaving your body and settling on the chair behind him. For a short blink of an eyelash, he still sees how a sperm thread connects him to you before it tears and sticks to his length.

Out of breath he dangles his hands left and right of him. Enjoy looking at your swollen walls, and how his thick sperm drips out of you slowly.

With an exhausted sigh, you turn around, straighten your panties before you sit on Ukai’s lap again. “As a tenager, I also wanted to know what your cock feels like inside me. Wanted to feel your cum in me and hear your deep voice. If I had known you were so good, I would have asked Naoi much earlier if he wanted to eat with me at home so that he would forget his jacket and I could bring it to him into the gym.” With a throaty laugh you give him a fleeting kiss on his reddish lips, which have changed their color through all your kisses.

“I guess I’ll have to thank the benchwarmer for leading you to me.” Like then, you swap conspiratorial glances before you both start laughing like teenagers when you lower your head to Ukai’s chest and give him an answer with gentle words.

“You have to, yeah.”

[lassieposting]

Bit late and random but it's the anon you leave food out for here to give away I am also bi and I think exactly the same as you about bi val pretty much, every time Derek offers me representation my reaction is to slowly, hesitantly take it and say "thaaaaaaaaanks..." while rolling my eyes, in much the same way one accepts their least favourite flavour of sweet from an annoyingly enthusiastic uncle-type-individual. Ironically I feel I had more in common with her before the bi shit started up.

What I find really amusing is that Landy actually did reasonably well at representation when (and only when) he wasn’t trying. 

Oh god, this got long, anon, my ass rambled.

tldr; I'm glad actual bi people dislike bi val (or how Laundry handled bi val) as much as me, this will probably offend at least one person but i don't really care, Dirty Laundry wrote better rep when he didn't mean to write rep at all, and if he ever starts trying to "represent" groups I'm part of I'll take him out back like a dying horse and shoot him.

Like, yes. He had stupid and potentially offensive shit - I say potentially because what offends one member of a group won’t necessarily offend all of them. His attitude to mentally ill people is, frankly, disgusting. We’ve had “Skulduggery can’t be abused, he doesn’t have feelings”. We’ve had “eVeRyOnE iS bI eVeNtUaLlY”. We had Ping, who seemed to be pretty much universally offensive. And that's what's always going to happen when a straight, cis, white, wealthy, male author tries to write marginalised groups he doesn't know shit about, because inevitably he's going to fall back on stereotypes.

But we also had:

SEXUALITY REP: Phase One's nonstraight characters were treated like the straight ones, and like, isn't that the whole point? There was no need for a massive Coming Out Story TM to grab for those sweet sweet Woke Points, because sexuality isn't supposed to be important to mages. I never understood why Val needed that whole Coming Out Panic storyline. Like...Des and Melissa are ridiculously supportive, encouraging, loving parents. They accepted you dating a ~19 year old when you were ~16. They accepted you revealing you could do fucking magic and that you'd been lying to them for like seven years. They took your undead buddy in stride and the most pressing question your dad had was whether magic toilets exist. There is zero reason to think that "I'm bisexual" is gonna be the thing that makes them flip and throw you into the streets in disgrace, Valkyrie. Come on.

Tanith had girlfriends and it was just mentioned casually, because it's normal.

China had massive UST with Eliza. That was an opportunity right there to not only include a f/f relationship, but also to bring back one of the few precious surviving characters from Phase One, using characters and a relationship that already had several books' worth of setup and tension and interest from fans.

The Monster Hunters have a casual conversation about which one of the Dead Men they'd date.

Ghastly has a conversation with Fletcher about the pain he's been through being in love. He never uses any pronouns.

It was confirmed at one point re: the Dead Men that at this point, after 300-odd years, everyone's been with everyone else at some point.

Thrasher is gay, and while Scapegrace's...everything...is treated as a joke/comedic relief, Thrasher's love for him isn't. He's completely devoted to Scapegrace, and that in itself is not played for laughs, even though the rest of the scene usually is. Thrasher's description of their first meeting is essentially a love-at-first-sight situation for him.

"ABNORMAL" RELATIONSHIP REP: Age gap relationships are normal for mages. Off the top of my head, using only canon, canon-implied or almost-canon ships:

Ghastly/Tanith (~350 year age difference)

Tanith/Sanguine (~250+ year age difference)

Tanith/Saracen (~350 year age difference)

Caisson/Solace (~250 year age difference)

China/Gordon (~400 year age difference)

Kierre/Temper (~500+ year age difference)

If you include fan ships, there's also things like Mevolent/Serpine or my Mevolent/Vile, which are both ~600 year minimum age gaps based on the timeline, or Valdug (and its variations) which is ~400 years.

Now, whether you consider this kind of rep positive or negative is up to you, but it’s there.

MENTAL ILLNESS REP: more like "Which characters in this series don't have a mental illness or a personality disorder?" I have some of these issues, but not all of them, so this is just how I read it, but:

ADHD: Skulduggery

Dissociative Identity Disorder: Skulduggery & Vile

Dissociation: Skulduggery again, most notably in DD and DB

Schizophrenia (or similar): Valkyrie & Darquesse, Valkyrie "seeing" Darquesse's ghost thing in Phase Two

Impostor Syndrome: Reflectionie

Autism: Clarabelle

Trauma/PTSD/CPTSD: Skulduggery, Valkyrie, China, Ghastly, Erskine...pretty much everyone has a believable, understandable, morally grey trauma response in this series. People struggling with trauma are spoilt for choice of characters to see themselves in.

TRAUMA REP: This series is a trauma conga line, but everyone has a believable, understandable, morally grey trauma response in this series. I see little bits of myself in more than one Phase One character.

Childhood Abuse (of varying degrees & types): Skulduggery, Carol & Crystal, Omen, Fletcher, Ghastly, China, Bliss, Sanguine...

Estranged Family: Skulduggery abandoning his crest, Fergus & Gordon, China & Bliss

Bad Romantic Relationship: Skulduggery is also very clearly an abuse victim. He’s got a solid history of romantic attachments to women who manipulate, use and gaslight him for their own agendas.  There's a whole paragraph in SPX about how Abyssinia broke him down, isolated him from his friends and preyed on his desperate need to be loved, all classic abuse tactics.

And I’m personally a huge fan of this backstory for two reasons:

1) Society likes a plucky victim in media. The "My suffering made me stronger" type of victim. And it's not always like that in real life. Not all survivors come out of their abuse stronger or kinder or more understanding. Some of us come out cold and fucked up. Some of us end up as emotionally stunted, bloodied-nails-and-bared-teeth survivors, broken in ways that can't be fixed and sustained by enough rage to power a small sun. But society doesn't like to tell the story of that kind of survivor, because we're not usually a likeable protagonist. When we're shown in media, we're usually the sympathetic villain, or maybe the antihero. But Skug is someone who's done awful things and lost pretty much all his faith in humanity and been burned more times than he can count, and he still makes the conscious choice to try and be the good guy when he could so easily go Evil Supervillain on the world, and I don't know about any of y'all, but I've modelled myself on him in that. I've made the choice to do something good when all I really want to do is just become a horrible, shrivelled ball of nastiness and revenge. And that's because I saw him do it and realised that I could do that too.

Skug is an incredibly capable, strong, masculine Man's Man. He gets in fights all the time, and he usually wins. He's military, an industry that's Really Bad for stigmatizing weakness and mental illness, and he's right up at the top of the hierarchy. Almost everyone is afraid of him. He's a straight up cold-blooded killer. Skulduggery Pleasant is precisely the type of person who's not normally portrayed as a victim of anything. Nothing about him screams "victim" at all. But his abuse history is insidious. He's so conditioned to respond in a certain way to abuse from the women in his life, probably from a very young age, that despite all that strength and capability and stubbornness and ego, he just goes along with it. And it's an established pattern going back hundreds of years. He keeps going back to China, even though he knows she's bad for him and his friends keep telling him to stay away from her. Abyssinia latched onto him when he was traumatized and vulnerable and weaponized it against him to make him easier to control - and when she reappears, hundreds of years later, she jumps straight back into using, tmanipulating and gaslighting him and not only does he let her, he doesn't even seem to realise that behaviour is abusive. He thinks it's normal! That's how he's always been treated by his long-term girlfriends, with the notable exception of Wifey. Even when Val is being fucking nasty to him in the first couple books of Phase Two, sniping and lying and blaming him for everything under the sun, he just takes it. There's no attempt to tell her she's being unreasonable, no telling her to fuck right off and give her head a wobble, no defending himself even when she's bitching over something that isn't even his doing. And this is a man who has an absolutely gleaming steel spine the rest of the time; Skug has no problem saying no to anybody else, but he can't get past the way he's been taught to treat the important ladies in his life. Skug is a walking reminder that anyone can be a victim of abuse, even the ones who seem least likely to be susceptible.

GENDER REP: This one is the most iffy out of the bunch and definitely was not done very well in the eyes of the people who matter most, but I'll include it anyway because it mattered to some.

So there's Nye, who's...agender? Genderless? And uses "it" pronouns? Nye was generally considered horrible rep because it's also a war criminal and experiments on people and I've seen people say "Well I don't want to be seen like that" but? It's still possible to be a war criminal and also genderless. I never saw the two things as being related or relevant to each other.

There's also Mantis, who's in exactly the same gender/pronouns boat as Nye and always seems to be forgotten about, which sucks because Mantis is a war hero. It fought for the Sanctuary during the War and they never lost a battle when it was in command. It's called out of retirement to fight for the Supreme Council in LSODM, ends up fighting alongside Skulduggery during the Battle of Roarhaven, and ultimately dies attempting a very brave, very risky strategy. Mantis is, unreservedly, one of the good guys. It was also my introduction to sentient beings using "it" pronouns, and did it in a way that felt natural, so when I met my first person online who used "it" pronouns and hated to be referred to as he/she, it was...weird, but not as weird as it would otherwise have been, because I was like, "Oh yeah, like the Crenga. Okay."

And then there's the Scapegrace sex change plotline, which...I might have an unpopular opinion on this one. From what I’ve seen, trans people don’t seem to think was handled well or with any sensitivity at all. I’m not trans, so if the trans community says he was being offensive to them, I’m not going to claim otherwise. But...I first read the Scapegrace plotline as a young teenager in a tiny rural school with zero diversity, going through a period of being deeply confused about my own gender identity. He was more or less my first introduction to the idea that genitals =/= gender. I was relieved, at that point in my life, to read someone having a lot of the same thoughts I was having about being in the wrong body. So while it may have been badly done and yeah, the series would probably have been better without it, it did make at least one kid suspecting she might not be cis go “Huh! So there are other people who feel like this.”

Thrasher is also implied to be legitimately trans/gender-questioning, and that's not played for laughs either.

So? Phase One, while it absolutely had faults and issues and things that were just "Oh god why", was actually full of rep, at least compared to the other series that I read as a child/teen. But? As soon as Dirty Laundry started trying to be woke? He fucking sucks ass at it. Aside from confirming Phase One's hints that Skug has a background of abusive relationships, every single attempt at shoehorning rep into Phase Two is Bad.

The painfully OOC, forced, badly-written awkwardness of Val suddenly being rabidly horny for women out of fucking nowhere. The stilted, forced cringiness between her and any of the women she's flirted with - contrast that with Sorrowscorn's interactions, full of natural chemistry that had us all like 👀 I mean, I never shipped Val/Melancholia, but I could always see why people did - they had miles more chemistry than Val/anyone in Phase Two.

The fucking mess that is v*litsa, because if someone says "I'm really not interested in friendships/relationships right now", clearly the route to true love is to bulldoze their boundaries and forcibly insert yourself into their life and proceed to treat them like a delicate soft uwu flower, completely ignoring the horrible things they've done, while gleefully damning their best friend as an irredeemable monster for the exact same things, which is. You know. Gonna affect your so-called love's self-confidence and self-esteem because she knows she's no different to him. Y'all know I love an angsty ship, an unhealthy ship, a ship with fucked power dynamics, but I literally cannot roll my eyes any further back in my head at this shit. I never read Demon Road, but from what I've heard from friends who did, it does seem like every time Laundry tries to write an f/f ship, he comes up with a cringey abusive/manipulative caricature and tries to call it rep, and he needs to Stop.

Val's Mental IllnessTM arc. It's funny how he wrote Skulduggery as a wonderfully complex character with deep-rooted psychological damage and long-lasting trauma, but believes he wrote a character with "no feelings" - but when he tries to delve into the damage the world of magic has done to Val, he turned her into a weak, whiny drug addict who treats everyone around her like garbage and is so selfish and dislikeable that I? Honestly can't even reconcile Phase Two val with Phase One val. They're two completely different people. He's shown on Twitter that he doesn't have any respect for mentally ill people, and it shows. Other mentally ill people might see it differently, but the whole thing just makes me go "yikes".

Never, who has no personality outside of being genderfluid, and whose pronouns make no sense. I'm sorry, I have never met an nb person who insists that you change from male to female pronouns multiple times in a sentence, every time you refer to them. It's confusing as fuck. Now I have been told that Never has apparently received some character development in the last couple books, and if so, fair play, but I quit reading after Midnight, and Never and the rest of the personality-less new characters introduced in Phase Two who just seemed to be 2D Stereotypes to snag Woke Points were a big part of why, so. Development too late, I'm afraid.

(Now, if anyone is looking for a well-written genderfluid character, I recommend the Tawny Man trilogy by Robin Hobb. I have a lot of issues with her as a writer, and unfortunately I hate her POV character which puts me off the series as a whole, but she wrote the Fool/Amber/Lord Golden and their gender identity/approach to sexuality with so much more respect and realism. That is the kind of rep nb people should be getting: 3D, complex, realistic characters whose gender is only a tiny fragment of their personality, not the be-all-and-end-all of their existence. You know. Like cis people get. Nobody wants to be represented by a 2D cardboard cutout stereotype.)

Anyway idk how much sense this makes it just really amuses me that Laundry would include all this rep completely unintentionally and then go on Twitter and remind us all that actually he's a massive asshole via insensitive/offensive tweets about the groups he'd actually done a fair job of including (i.e. Skulduggery has no feelings, mentally ill people should find another series to read, the bullshit about Val being "heteromantic bisexual" on Twitter and then spouting all the "the woman she loved uwu" shit in the books (proving he has no idea what he's talking about), eVeRyOnE iS bI eVeNtUaLlY. He can only write half-decent rep when he's not trying and he inevitably outs himself as having a really shitty attitude towards those people anyway, proving that ultimately it's all either unintentional rep or performative wokeness.